Mass Effect: New Arrivals
by Follower38
Summary: A stranger wakes up in the ME universe, but 1 problem: ME never existed in his reality. Now with the threat of the Reapers and other strangers arriving, what will he do in this unfamiliar land. Rule 89: One's an anomaly, Two's a trend. M for later Ch s .
1. Splitting headaches

Mass Effect: New Arrivals Ch1

A/N: Right before we go anywhere with this story, this is an OC where his reality is completely the same as ours since 2012 barring one big difference, Bioware never made Mass Effect period. All other events of the world came as they would, bar the game. As such when characters from other stories and games come in, he will recognize them. That said this will be a crossover of characters into the ME universe story.

"Ugh, never again," I said as I pulled myself off the floor. "Never again am I taking a shot of 150 proofs V laced with Morgan's again." Rubbing my eyes, "ESPECIALLY not with that weird blue stuff again." Trying to grab my iPhone I realize that aside from my clothes, all my stuffs GONE. My sling bag, phone, wallet, keys, hell even the lint in my pockets. Looking around I realize I'm in a cell; one door, no windows, one camera over the door.

Thinking this is a joke I start yelling, "Very funny guys, HILAROUS. Now let me out." Few minutes pass before a voice, female, electronically distorted slightly tells me.

"I apologize, but until the Commander allows to free passage, you are to remain here." (Wait, what the?)

"BULLSHIT!" I scream, "I AM A BORN US CITIZEN, YOU CAN NOT DETAIN ME WITHOUT DUE PROCESS." Silently thanking my old American Government teacher.

The voice simply states, "That is not applicable here, you are on a civilian vessel and not on American Soil or Earth." Soon as I hear that my brain freezes, (wait, what?) my hand twitches, the way that's said I can't feel any lies, and I've learned to hear the lie. All that happens before I promptly pass out. The last thing I hear is, "Doctor Chakwas, please report to the cargo hold…"  
>***<p>

I wake up to find myself staring at a while ceiling, metal. "Commander, he's waking up. Should I sedate him?" A woman, her voice sounds motherly, caring. Either been one for a while or in the medical field.  
>"No, let him, I want to figure out who he is." Sounds like another woman, tough but gentle. (Got to be careful with her) Something's telling me to be careful and I keep that in mind as I raise myself up. I look around I'm in a medical area of some sort, but I can make sense of anything. There's a window to the right, showing what all of my effects looks like a kitchen, along with some desks, and to my surprise.<p>

"Hey, look over here." I turn and I see a woman of round 30s maybe younger, probably. I also notice some scaring around her face, though it's starting to go away. "You're going to be ok, my name's Serafina Shepard, and-"  
>That's all she gets to say before I'm grabbing my head and doubling over in pain. Think as though someone had just put jabbed something through my temples. My brain is assaulted by images and memories of this woman. Like I'm downloading information from somewhere, all of related to 'Shepard': First human Spectre, hero of the citadel, savior of the council, Saren, Reapers, Normandy SR1, Skyllian Blitz, the memories comes so fast I can hardly see them all. As soon as it came, it's done. And I'm breathing hard, like I just had finished endurance training: nonstop runs for two hours. I sweating, my lungs tearing for breathe. Before I fall over, Shepard grabs me and puts me back on the bed.<br>"I'll be okay." I said, pulling myself into a stand position. "It's alright."  
>She looks at me dubiously but accepts it. "All right then. Now who are you?"<p> 


	2. Trying to Get the Hell out of Dodge

Mass Effect: Newcomer CH2

I sigh, where the hell I am, might as well be truthful hope whatever happened can be undone. I take a breather and look the woman, Shepard she said, right in the eyes before speaking, "My name is Cristoph Andres. Born American. Among the top of class, Ivy League path. Military technology, tactics, and historian nut. along with sci-fi, tech-head, and movie fan." I told Sheppard as I decided to sit down in a chair in what was obviously a medical bay of some sort. The motherly voice I heard belonged to a lady named Chakwas; apparently head of medical here, wherever here is. "Now would you kindly please tell me where am I?"

"You're on the Normandy SR2," Sheppard answers, "a frigate under my command." Right now you're in the Terminus systems, but we're on our way to the Citadel to meet the Council." (Wait, what? Frigate? We're on a boat? And what in the world is the 'Terminus system'?) Giving me a hard look she asks "Now, who in name of the galaxy are you?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, "I just told you."

She looks into my eyes and I feel a shudder go down my spine. I know the look in her eyes, eyes of someone that have suffered a lot of pain and kicked back with everything they had, but not falling to the dark. That's not mention the 'don't you bullshit me'. "There's no record of you WHAT SO EVER. Coupled with the fact that you have artifacts in your possession that must be around 180 years old," Indicating my sling bag, (Wait, what the hell? Two centuries? I got those last year!) "but are in pristine condition, making their values at several hundred thousand credits just for that fact, not mention that some are full functional, upping their value. Just who are you?" I'm still staring at her in bewilderment she just shakes her head and turns toward what looks like a small platform protruding from the wall, an armrest of something? "EDI, Joker what's our time to the Citadel?"

"Not much longer commander-"I feel another surge once I hear the voice this time a man's, couldn't be that much out of college, still grasping my head, now it feels like a vice and the pressures mounting. It's like the surge from before but not as strong, but damn close. I hear the woman's voice from my cell again, "Approximately 2 hours commandeer." And before the first surge is gone, a second comes. This one's twice as strong, and this time it overwhelms me. I scream in pain, just before I fall forward and hit the floor. Then…

**Interval 1**

Orbital Station  
>Cerberus Base: Illusive man's quarters.<p>

Taking another drag of the cigar in his hand, he looks at the display in front the dwarf star. He looks at the OCD on his armrest; it held the details of an experimental means to extract more energy from Element Zero or "Eezo" as the rest of the galaxy had come to call it. Along the bottom however, was the status of the project: On schedule. Insignificant for now.

Sheppard was the central project: keeping an eye on her efforts, which thanks to a certain AI and of course some devious programs; made the job much easier. He pulled up both EDI's and Miranda Lawson's report. Almost regretful he had her tag along with Sheppard; he realized she would serve far greater purpose alongside Sheppard. Both reports yield the generally same information, both with each other and daily purpose. However…there was one thing that caught his eye: A new arrival?

Pulling up Lawson's report, it showed that she had no knowledge of this. EDI's however revealed that the man had in his possession some antiques. VERY old antiques and in near pristine conditions, but also that no records existed at all on the person themselves. His name "Cristoph Andres" yielded no results, despite his resources. The same with his DNA profile, adding to the mystery was the lack of any immunization shots standard to all human children everywhere, given at birth.

Smiling he said "Better keep an eye on this one, a man without any records may prove useful." Snuffing out his cigar, he sent a message, along with a viral worm to delete it, ordering EDI to take the man's measurements then send it to certain stores on the Citadel. "If you're going to keep him Sheppard, I'll let you." He said to no one in particular. "He just better know the meaning of Status Quo." He smiled, thinking on the possibilities. "May as well make him as useful as possible for you, perhaps we can gain something from him." Then turned his attention to that of another Project: Overlord.

**Interval 2**

(Well this is great, first I find I'm not on earth, I'm at least 200 years in the future and oh, that's right. I don't exist!) I thought as I pulled myself off the bed. (Yeah bull, the moment I found the guys who did this to me, there's going to be hell to pay.) I look around to see I'm still in the Medical area, and the good doctor is absent. And my stuff is still where I last saw it. Perfect.

I grab my stuff, and head out of the med area, (after finally figuring out that hitting the light in front of the door will actually open It.) and start trying to find my way out of this nightmare. I send a quick prayer to the lord, (or lords, just in case) to find the whole area empty. Barring one guy, bald and passed out on the counter. My sling bag's on, still got everything. Ok, let's get the hell out of dodge.

Ok, let's see, a kitchen, some closed doors, and is that? Oh Jesus! It is! An elevator! I call the elevator and as soon as it arrives I'm in, and the doors close. And it starts moving, WITHOUT ME TOUCHING ANYTHING ELSE. "Crap." (Why do these things always happen to me?)

The elevator doors open up and this time I'm in, "Whoa." In front a DAMN big hologram. Wait, WHAT? That level of tech shouldn't even be possible yet. Where the hell am I? Better question, when the hell am I? Was that woman telling the truth? Please let there be somewhere I get the hell out of here…

I look around and see signs; one grabs my attention, "Armory". And it seems like everyone's out of the night. Huh.

The door opens without a problem. But the armory is clean. And everything sealed away. No guns or anything, just random cylinders on the tables. I grab one as a souvenir, (what the hell, it's not like their hurting for them.) I look around only to see two exits, one to the left and the way I came in, "Ah Fierfek." Not much I can do here as I'm definitely NOT going into that elevator again), I exited the armory, and open another door to find, "I'm screwed."

The commander and what I'm guessing to be her crew are in the room around a conference table. All of them with the look of, 'finally he showed up'. A man of obvious African heritage, a woman in very nice and form fitting uniform, (not that I'm complaining), another women with barely anything except pants and straps, (would've been nice if it weren't for the tats, but still, cool ink.) and what looks like an upright lizard, in blue armor with some nasty scarring on his face and scorch marks on his armor near the scar. I'm taking all this in as Shepard said, "Ah, Mr. Andres, glad to see you here." Smiling, "now, let's pick up where we left off, who are you?"

A/N: Guys please read and review this story if you do read it. Like my other story, having all those hits doesn't make me feel great. I mean it's awesome that my ME: infamous story has over 13K hits, but really, only 26 reviews? Please guys, and girls, like or spurn, love it or hate, tell me, please.


	3. Reality Check and Enlistment

Well f*ck me. Truth or try and bullshit my way through this? Uh, scratch that. Lady with tats look mean, must not lie. What the hell. Why not.

"My name is Cristoph Andres, and the last thing that I can recall is going down south to celebrate Mardi Gras with a bunch of my friends. The only thing I remember about that night is the bar we went to. We were already pretty wasted but I decided to try a last shot of 150 proof V with Morgan's. Before I could down it, a guy came up to me with some canister and told me, 'kid, take some of this shit and you'll have the time of your life.' He twisted the thing and poured some of it into my mix. I drink it, black out and wake up here. Wherever here is."

As I finish, I look into everyone's eyes, trying to gauge their reaction. The chick in the skin-tight outfit is looking at me like I need a medical analysis. Tats is smirking at me, the African guy is just staring at me with a 'Is he for real?' look on his face. The alien is… Well, I can't really tell but it looks like he just wants to get rid of me. And the Commander? She's looking at me with an interested, but dubious look on her face. "Interesting. Not sure if I should believe it, kid, but I'll take it. Just don't give me a reason to regret it. But, I'll keep you. Looks like you need all the help you can get."

The woman in the white skin-tight suit protested, "But, Commander, we don't even know if he's telling the truth. How are we supposed to know if he is who he says he is?" Whoa, _someone's _got a stick up their ass. "And I doubt the Illusive Man will be willing to let you keep him onboard. I say we drop him on the nearest station or just get rid of him."

Oh, hell no, that's not happening. "Look, I'm telling the truth. Just what the hell do I have to do to prove it to you people?" I'm raising my hands in a gesture of surrender, "I'm telling you like it is, and just why are you all looking at me like I'm crazy when I said 2012?"

Shepard stepped forward, "Because it's the year 2185, not 2012. If you're telling the truth, then you just jumped around 170 years into the future." Wait, what?

"Commander," skin-tight stepped forward.

"Ms. Lawson, give me a reason why I shouldn't trust this person, who just showed up outside my quarters and passed out from the early 21st century, and I'll throw him in the brig myself."

Ms. Lawson wasted no time, "EDI, bring up this person's records, DNA scans, background checks, everything." Who the heck's Edi? A hologram of a blue orb suddenly appeared hovering over the table.

"Apologies Ms. Lawson," Uh, it's talking? Please tell me that's not an AI. I don't like AIs. "But I have been unable to find any sort of record on Mr. Andres. For all intents and purposes, he does not exist." EDI replied. "However, I have reports and orders from the Illusive Man. It seems that he has taken an interest in Mr. Andres and has requisitioned armor for him to be retrieved on the Citadel. Details are on your terminal, Operative Lawson, and yours also, Commander Shepard."

Ms. Lawson had an incredulous look on her face from EDI's statement, while Shepard just chuckled. The dinosaur's mandible's widened. I guess he's smiling? "Well then," Shepard said, "Guess I better introduce you to the crew." She gestured to the woman in the tight white outfit. "Miranda Lawson, biotic and Cerberus liaison" She glares at me. The African man, "Jacob Taylor, biotic and armor specialist" His stance says ex-military, recent. She gestures to the woman covered in tattoos, "Jack, biotic powerhouse, and escaped convict." She has a permanent scowl on her face. She then puts her arm around the alien's shoulder, "and Garrus Vakarian, turian sniper and vigilante."

"So," Garrus asked, "what exactly can you do?" He's looking me over, assessing me, "I mean, 200 years old—you might make use of some money, but I doubt you know anything that can help us."

Bullshit, I'm not useless. After people telling me the better part of my life, I'll be damned if I let this SOB tell me that. I get closer to him—hell, I stomped to him, damn near crunching his toes (wore my boots, cousin gave me them after he got out of the army) —and said to him, "I'm a military historian, so I know tactics and strategy. I'm also a tech nerd, so I can learn how to hack if you need it—just give me time with the new gear. I know a bit about physiology and melee combat; that has obvious benefits. I studied engineering, so I can help design some new toys."

"Well then, provided you don't try to shoot me in the back, welcome aboard the crew of the Normandy SR2. Mr. Andres." Shepard offered her hand to shake, I took it.


	4. New Gear, New Problems, Same Bull

Mass Effect: Newcomers Ch4

-Cristoph Andres' Quarters

*Normandy SR2's location, Citadel Space, 2 hours till docking

Well, it's been five days since I joined the Normandy—five days on me trying to get used to the fact that I'm in a reality I have absolutely no idea about. Oh, and lets not forget the random surges of information, of course. I like the information I'm getting but, damn, it feels like my head's in a vice and everything just clutches inside me. Finally figured out what causes it, though. I've been going through this "Codex" Shepard had EDI, our local AI, give me.

Seems like there's key words or voices that will cause the surge. When I was reading on the asari, nothing happened. But I delved more into this "Extranet," apparently this galaxy's version of the internet, and went more in depth. I came upon the word: Justicar, the asari's version of extreme peacekeepers. They follow a code to live their life by. My whole body froze up, but no pain. I got a lot more information out from the surge then the Extranet. One statement stuck in my head and the reason for it: it's what Justicar's say to those they are about to kill in the name of their Code, but I can't remember it. Probably will, in the right moment. That always happens to me—remembering the most random thing at an opportune, or more often, random moment. Same thing happened with quarians and every other race in the codex. Simply put: I've been torturing myself with surges learning about the galaxy I'm in. Fun.

Got some time left. Might as well catch some sleep to get rid of this bloody migraine I got now before I pick up my armor. Which reminds me of the fact that now the guy, who paid for everything on this s***, decided to give me armor, and I don't like it. I had a better life when I could deal with bull****, but now I can tell when something's not right. And my bull**** detector just went off in that meeting. Crap.

**Citadel, Zakera Ward**

Oh sweet Lord Jesus. When they told me about the Citadel and told me it was big, I've heard the expression making a mountain out of a molehill. But here it's making a molehill out of a mountain. I thought it would be a massive platform, but no. It's a damn RING OF PLATFORMS connected to a central joint. Each platform was thousands of kilometers long and god knows how thick. That's not to mention how it's near impenetrable from the outside once the arms are sealed. Garrus told me how they managed to use what they called a Conduit, a mini mass relay to get inside two years ago.

Thankfully, the shop where my armor was held wasn't too far. I still got held up at the damn Citadel Security scans (or C-Sec). Ugh. Fortunately, getting the armor was easy, as was putting it on. Now though I'm getting stares for waltzing around in armor with only the sidearm that came with the armor, (still need to know how to use it) but the armor's better then my old clothes. Wonder if Shepard is having the same problem? I sold a bunch of stuff, like my iPhone after I copied and data-wiped it and got almost 2 million credits in total. Sold it to a weird short dumpy alien; guy was hyperventilating when I showed it to him.

I might as well tour this place until we get everything cleared out. Shepard's gone to pick up some upgrades, and Garrus "volunteered" to tag along. Heh, funny to see him get ordered around, but Shepard, as nice as she is, scares me to the core—I could feel the sheer potential alone from her. Another thing I picked up over my life: being able to judge just what a person's capable of to a degree, whether they're all bark and no bite or if I should watch my footing.

"Great," I heard Garrus mutter, "Another reason why I left C-sec."

I stop to face him, "What?"

"Look to your right." I turn to see another of the dumpy aliens, (I think Garrus called it a volus?) a human and another, more humanoid alien, but looks to be wearing a full body suit. "A quarian,"—I guess they're a new alien?—"getting harassed by C-sec and a Volus." Volus, I was right. I dabbled in government and law, learning about the core systems, the cracks, holes and back deals. So I hate seeing corruption or harassment by law enforcement and from my surge and Codex researcher: Quarians have an unfair prejudice against them. Strangely enough, I realize I never saw an image while reading of a quarian, Go figure.

Walking over I asked, "What's going on here? Maybe I can help?" Either this is legit or just another asshole.

"No need to involve yourself, just another quarian, sir." The C-Sec human officer answers. What the? Just a quarian? What is this, 1965 all over again?

"Yes, please stay out this Earth-clan," The volus wheezes, "This quarian stole my chit and I can handle it."

That set her off. "I DID NOT STEAL YOUR CHIT! Just because I'm a quarian doesn't mean I stole it!" the quarian objects, a woman—no, a girl. Just why is someone as young as her, and if this is normal treatment towards her people, traveling alone? Something seems off…

I got distracted by the C-Sec guy, "My scans show the quarian doesn't have a chit on her," the C-Sec stated, "but she could have stashed it for later." Wow, even after nearly 200 years people are still bigots and idiots. I hate these kinds of people, but I love proving them wrong.

"Look, let me help. Now where did this happen?" I asked.

"I came out of the Sirta store, after which," -wheeze- "this clan-less knocked into me." -wheeze- "When I checked for my chit, it was gone."

"Look," I said. "Let me go check the store. Maybe you left it there."

"I did not," -wheeze- "but you are welcome to."

I turned away and start walking to try and find the Sirta store when Garrus grabs hold of my shoulder. He turns me around and asks, "What the hell are you doing? You don't even know what you're doing."

I cross my arms and look him straight in the eye, "LOOK, Mr. Vakarian. I don't know about you but I am a man of principles and control." Glaring I continue, "For the better part of my life, I have had to deal with people who sacrifice their morals for a price and entertainment and have no regard for the sake of others. Many others just stood by and let it happen; my emotional torture was their entertainment. I became a hard man, untrusting, uncompromising and alone. Then I met the right people, people who were men and women of honor. They would not sacrifice their morals; they help however they can without compromising who they are. They taught me honor, selflessness, duty, morality and sacrifice. And I have taken the best of these two worlds." I turn, not willing to face him, "I will not fight in my own name lest in my own defense or that of others. I would rather take the hate then deliver it. In the words of a wise man, 'you reap what you sow, force answers force. War breeds war. And death only brings death. To break this vicious cycle, one must do more than act without any thought or doubt.' Such actions are why bigotry and prejudice still exist. Yet, I will not suffer fools who believe it to be acceptable and right to harass and harm others because of arrogant belief of superiority or image of inferiority, and yes, there is a difference. In short, I will take it all and not fight back, but I will be damned if I let another suffer when I had the power to interfere."

Garrus stood then. I can't tell if he's stunned or contemplating what I said. Finally he says, "I understand. I was that way too, probably before I joined C-Sec." He starts walking to the Sirta Foundation store, "You're not the only one who thinks like that, but you're one of few who act. Come on. Let's go."

**10 minutes after meeting with the Volus**

'Dumbass di'kuta volus forgot his chit at the store!' I pinch the bridge of my nose to calm myself down before I start walking back to the place where they last were. 'At least now we can get this cle-'

"JUST WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" Damn C-Sec officer is trying to take the quarian away! And either the guy is really weak or quarians are stronger then they look.

The guy looks in my direction, "Look, she's coming with me. She stole that chit."

"No, she didn't." I turn to the volus, "You left your credit chit at the store, and the clerk's holding it for you."

The volus wheezes, breathes, whatever. "Well, she could have stolen it."

At this I start to tense; my muscles start going rigid. Before I can calm down and stop it the C-Sec guy just HAS to add, "Right, you're still coming down to the station with me for vagrancy." I spun.

"Are you being serious?" I said, without a hint of any emotion on my voice.

The guy pauses for a second before adding, "Yeah, she's a quarian, so I got to."

"Let. Her. Go." I rip the guy's hand off the girl.

"How about I run you in for obstruction of justice?" He goes for what I think is a pair of handcuffs and tries to grab my wrist. 'I am so going to enjoy this.'

The moment he grabs my wrist, I pull it back towards me. He stumbles, and then I send a stabbing-motion jab delivered in an undercut move to his lower body. Impact, one reflex he starts doubling over. Before he does though, I send an open palm strike to his solar plexus, forcing the air out his lungs. With a quick karate chop just to the right of the neck and before the shoulder blade; he starts to fall to his knees. Not before I elbow him in the face, martial arts style. Nothing that'll leave any sort of permanent damage, but enough to make sure he remembers it.

The guy's already getting back up—he must have one hell of a pain threshold. That, or I was holding back too much. He moves to punch me, but then I sidestep and grab his wrist and rotate his arm behind him, not enough to break it or anything, but damned painful enough to stop the guy cold. I press on the back of his knee, forcing him to fall forward before I nail him to the ground and I put my face close to his ear.

"You're human so you should know something about American History, particularly that of a certain country: The United States of America. A country that set standard on the treatment of others, with the efforts of a few good men." I whispered. I let him go and off the ground. He holds his arm with his other, keeping the pressure off his shoulder.

"'That all people are by nature equally free and independent, and have certain inherent rights, of which, when they enter into a state of society, they cannot, by any compact, deprive or divest their posterity—namely, the enjoyment of life and liberty, with the means of acquiring and possessing property, and pursuing and obtaining happiness and safety.' That is what we as a people decided. For all people, no matter who they may be, are treated equally in all manners, no matter their heritage." I start walking over to the quarian girl. She's kind of cute now that I get a closer look at— Wait. What? Calm down, and get back to this. I turn back to the C-Sec officer.

"People like you remind me why I am disgusted with our own species. We can be far better than what we are, but we choose to be less. The quarians are by far a nobler race; they are kind, selfless, intelligent and capable." From what I remember Garrus and the Commander told me about a certain quarian crewmate, they had been friends a while back and it seems to be the norm for their species. "The only reason I am glad that I am not one of their people is because as a human, I have the power and ability to defend them. Now get out of here before I actually get mad." The C-Sec officer's eyes go wide and he runs—well, hobbles is more like it, as fast as he can. Didn't think I actually hurt him that much. I turn to the volus, who is looking towards the qu- girl. "So, you are going to apologize, right?" I asked looking at the volus.

"Why?"

My jaw would have dropped but I was too pissed. "Let's see. Because you were wrong and falsely accused this poor girl."

"Well, she could have stolen it." He shrugs it off like it's nothing.

WHAT? I walk up to him and put my foot on him, "You make a false accusation and all you say is she could've stolen it?" I shove him, causing him to fall over. "Get the hell out of here." The volus makes his getaway after he manages to get himself up.

I walk up to the girl and she's just standing there. like she's in shock or something, I place a hand on her shoulder, which brings her back to reality and ask, "You going to be okay, Miss?"

She shakes her head, hopefully out of disbelief than anything else. "Yeah, yeah I'll be fine. Keelah… Thank you. No one every stands up for my people, and not like how you did at least. What was that, though? What you did to that C-Sec officer? And who are you?"

"Yeah. Cristoph, I want to know that for myself." Ah, fierfek! Forgot Garrus was here with me! Great, now I'm dead once Shepard hears about this. She's going to kill me.

"Hey, calm down." The girl looks at me nervously. I give her a good-natured smile to help her realize I'm joking. "As for what I did, it was a mixture of martial arts, namely Tae-Kwon-Do, with some kendo and krav-maga techniques and some of my own ideas. As to my name: Cristoph Andres. And yours is, Miss?"

"Lia, Lia'Vael nar Ulnay."

"Nar?" I feel a small surge again, this time I can actually process it. Nar means "born of," for quarians. It signifies a youth who has yet to take or is on Pilgrimage. Quarian Pilgrimage: a rite of passage to adulthood, proving their worth back home. "So, you're on your Pilgrimage?"

She took a half step back, surprised. "You know of the Pilgrimage? How?"

Crap. Uh… "Well, I—"

"Hold up! C-Sec!" Well, this is great. Got out of having to explain myself, but now I've got C-Sec goons coming towards me. Looks like the guy from before, and some other guy leading the front. With a bunch of others behind them, and armed to boot, I look at Garrus, who has a look of disbelief, from what I can tell, on his face. Why do I have the feeling this is not going to go well?

A/N: Read and Review people. BTW, preview of character listings for those who get the reference in the story(you got to find it first) and tell me where and what it's from.


	5. Reunion and Rule 89

Newcomers-Ch5

(A/N: unbetaed so I can get it out faster for you good folks)

'Fierfek, why today of all days does everything have to go wrong?' The Goon- sorry C-sec squad is still charging toward us. One of them stands out from the others, but that's all I got, "Uh, Garrus, any advice here?" Nope, he's still zoned out or something, turian thing maybe?

Anyway back to the incoming shit-storm of bureaucrats and biased idiots, I'm thinking 'why did I get the alien as a babysitter if all he's going to do is stand there slack jawed. Seems he's focused on one in particular'. The guy, who for the life of me I don't get why, is wearing what amounts to a trench coat. Old fashioned maybe? Thankfully he introduces himself, and his M-9 Predator pistol to us. "Hands in the air, and turn around," I quirk my eyebrows. "You are under arrest for assault and attempted murder of a volus and C-Sec officer."

I bite my tongue to keep myself from cracking up, 'wow, I beat on one guy and he screams "bloody murder" '

Well better hope this guy is better than a lamppost because if he isn't I'm using him as one. "So, Garrus mind-"

That gets the guy's attention, "Garrus? Garrus Vakarian? Is that really you?" Disbelief heavy in his voice as he starts to lower his pistol, and everyone else, (besides lead goon 1 aka recently-beat-down) does the same.

"Ian?"

"Mate!" The guy, Ian, grabs Garrus arms in an old-warriors hold: hand to forearm. "Where the hell have you been, man? After Shepard's death you stick around for a few months then, POOF! You gone and done something stupid again? Who'd you piss off this time?"

'This time?'

Garrus shrugs, "You the know, the usual: go to a space station that hates cops, become a vigilante, get the three biggest merc groups to tag-team me and meet someone back from the dead." He touches his scars before adding, "Oh yeah, and getting a rocket to the face."

Ian smirked, "Come on, Garrus, you're supposed to piss off one merc group at a time. Besides, chicks dig scars. That's probably why you got shot." He gets serious, "So what are you doing here now? Can't see you re-joining C-sec, you got pretty pissed at the Council and all the red-tape if I recall."

Garrus points towards me "Got baby-sitting duty to this guy: picking up some armor and other stuff for him."

"Who's he?"

"He's-"

OK, time to step in and prevent any embarrassment, "My name's Christoph Andres, Nice to meet you." I offer my hand.

"Ian Shaw. C-Sec." He takes it and shakes. "Sorry you have to deal with this ugly bastard." He points to said bastard. ("Hey!") "Noisy too. So, you mind letting me in on what happened?"

"Well-"

"It's nothing Ian, just a disagreement. That guy over there just hurt himself: tripped and crashed into a wall." Garrus said. "Hey, why don't the two of us go for a couple of drinks? I'll tell you what I've been doing." He turns toward me. "You know your way back right?" I show him my omni-tool, (which I figured out how to use within an hour and personalize it. Hey I'm a techie and quick, so sue me.)

"Eh, why not?" Ian tells the C-sec go- ok squad, to go back to the station and the bigot to get some remedial training before heading off with Garrus to god knows where. When I look back at the guy, well, he looked like someone shoved something where the sun don't shine and just realized it.

Well that's one problem solved, hope there's something I can do for Lia, which reminds me. 'Crap' I turn around to see Lia with who is either bemused or slack-jawed. Money's on the latter. "He, they, you, I."

'Yup, I win.'

"What just happened?" I have to smile, even if I can't see past that visor, (note to self: dig around in head for reason why quarians are suited.) It's funny how she looks right now: confused and dumbstruck: think of a friend looked when they saw their idol.

"That miss, is called political manipulation of the truth to your advantage, or lying through your teeth to save your skin." She giggled at that, even through that mask of hers it sounds cute. "Now may I offer you a drink, the least I can do." She starts to protest but I cut her off, "and no arguments." I give her a stern look; she almost looked defeated until she saw the glint in my eyes. I win.

**NCs**

'Heh.' Funny, it took only half an hour to convince her to join me with Shepard, (apparently the chance to look a brand-new, top-of-the-line Mass Effect Drive Core on a stealth frigate is too good to pass up. Right now we're going back to the ship and passing by some shops, seems more than a few are selling antiques and relics. Anyway, whatever Shepard's got planned obviously she's going to need some-

"What the hell!" OK. THAT is NOT supposed to EXIST! Not here. No way. Damn thing caught my sight because of how unique it is, rusted in some places. Least for when it was SUPPOSED to have been made. Shit, looks like I'm not the only one here. Not the only one who doesn't belong.

'Just what the hell is a Bastard gun doing here?'* "Hold on, I want to check something out," I point to the store, "Over here." Inside I find a salarian shop owner, and he's cleaning a, oh bloody hell. First it's a Bastard and now it's a SCAR rifle, Heavy-Type. Gulping I walk toward the salarian, "Excuse me, but where did you acquire that rifle?" pointing at the SCAR-H, "and that one over there?"

"This thing?" Holding up the SCAR-H, "A turian sold it to me; claims to gotten it off a couple of raiders in Terminus. As for that thing," pointing to the Bastard, "A human sold it to me. Bought it for couple thousand creds, looked cool and uses chemical propellant so maybe it's worth something."

Ok, might be sheer luck about the SCAR. "And the human, what did he look like?"

"Don't know, kept a hood up. He sounded like he was talking through a mask or something, sold a bunch of old and I mean _**really old**_ ammo with the gun too. Some of it looked like it was reloaded after use. When I asked his name, he said it was Artyom." He put down the SCAR, "saw C-sec take away him later for punching a Turian and trying to stab him." Shaking his head, "Bastard was screaming about 'dark ones' or something."

Crap. "How long ago?"

"Couple of days, maybe two."

"Thanks."

After buying the Bastard and whatever else 'Artyom' sold, I touch my headset and call Garrus, "We got a problem," He might be able to help us here. "And bring Ian."

"Right, Ian's asking why but you explain it to him. And by the way, it's your turn." Wait my turn? Whatever.

"Right, meet me at the C-sec offices." Great, now who else is going to show up now? Riddick? I look around for Lia and see a pair of shining eyes before they disappear. Gulp. Uh, better not take any chances. "And call Shepard."

(A/N: For the majority that doesn't know, check out the Bastard gun from Metro 2033 the game.)

A/N: Any opinions and criticism? Reviews please!


	6. Moonshine, Eyeshine, and Black Eyes

**Mass Effect: New Arrivals-Ch.6**

**C-Sec headquarters: Holding Cells**

"So, I send you and Garrus to pick up your new gear, he finds an old friend, you find an old gun and some random guy. Not to mention the quarian that you 'requited'. Am I with you so far?" Shepard joined us soon after we reached the C-Sec station. I gave her a basic rundown on what happened so far. And she's pissed. "So what's so special about this guy?"

I gulp. Better give her the full story and hope for the best. I take out the Bastard gun and hand it to Shepard. "Take a look at this gun and tell me what you think."

She takes it and starts looking it over. "So, nothing special aside from the fact it looks homemade." She focuses on the small sparse lettering, "and that it's made in Russia, apparently." I point to a small series of numbers, the date when one of the parts was made. "10/12/2023. So? Nothing special about that."

I sigh. Better tell her everything and hope for the best. "Shepard, that gun is not supposed to exist, period. It was made in an armory in a Russian metro, in a world where nuclear war came and went." She opens her mouth to protest but I continued, "The gun was sold by a guy who shouldn't exist here either, if this guy is the real deal. I have a hunch and if I'm right, this is either a blessing or a curse. For now, let me talk to this guy." Shepard is about to say something but instead gives me a look that says; 'we'll talk about this later.' Damn, that sent shivers down my spine.

Ian came back from the back area with a datapad, "Got the guy's files. Showed up on the Citadel a few days ago, the day he was arrested in fact." He scrunches his face at point. "Strange, no other records of any type—Citadel or otherwise. No traces of any sort of tech at all, downright primitive gear. Translators are working but he doesn't understand anyone else." He points to a door, "The rest of his gear was confiscated and put away. It's primitive but, and I quote, 'it's some downright nasty stuff'."

"Can I see the gear?" Ian just waves his hands in a "go ahead, I don't care" gesture.

Inside the room all of "Artyom's" gear is neatly arranged on a table, and "Jesus, this guy might be the real deal." A gas mask, filters, a homemade charger, night vision goggles, throwing knives, pipe bombs, .44 magnum with stock, barrel and scope, and a shotgun machine gun, and just a PILE of ammunition; must have been hundreds of rounds total. I pick up the charger and squeeze the lever on it, _Whoa…_ Yeah, it might be the real deal. I checked the SMG next. Thing was made from a larger caliber, HMG, made 12.7mm. Everything looks exactly like it did in game. Don't think he came from _Last Light_ though. I step back out of the room and ask Ian to where the guy's being held.

He takes me to a holding area and unlocks the door, before I open it though he warns me, "Be careful in there. He's already sent three guys to a hospital and nearly choked a turian to death. Choked!"

Geez, now I got to wonder, is this Artyom a paragon or a renegade. Better remember to set the translator to project what I say in Russian.

**Holding room**

_Damn it, I let the Dark Ones live and this happens to me!_ Artyom was pacing back and forth in the room. _And how the hell did I get here? Last thing I remember is being on top of the tower before a Demon knocked me off. Now I wake up in this place and Dark Ones are just walking around!_ He paused and turned when he heard the door enter and a guy in jet black armor enters.

The last thing he remembered was walking out some store with many pre-war relics, all in great condition. He didn't even remember what he had done inside there. Then he saw a Dark One, 'why do these people work with the Dark Ones?' he tried to bring it down but the last thing he remembers after that before waking up in his cell is a blur of a brawl.

He turned when he heard a very slight hiss and saw the doors open. _Huh?_ There, a man in armor stood. The closest thing he had seen to the man's armor was the plated nosalies when trying to reach D6.

{Hello Artyom, that is your name right?} (A/N: {Russian}) Artyom's eyes shot open. He had been feeling the effects of over-exertion from the last few days of his life. Even with the amount of sleep he had gotten recently, the nightmare still plagued him. {Artyom?}

{Where am I? Who are you?} _Can this guy help me?_ Artyom was desperate; people had tried talking with him but he could never understand what they were saying, but he realized they understood him. He still was worried about Exhibition. {I need to get back to the Metro; I need to get back to my station!} Artyhom asked desperately.

The guy walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, {Artyom, my name is Cristoph Andres, and you can no longer return to the Metro.} Artyom began to panic, _No no no, they cannot be gone. They can't be dead. The Dark Ones—_ {Do not worry. They are safe. It is simply you are no longer in Russia, and you are no longer on Earth. The year is not 2033, but the year 2185.} His finger twitches before his eyes roll into the back of his head and hits the floor. One of the many things Artyom learned during his transition into a Ranger was to decipher and pick out lies. The last thing he heard was, {Well, that could've gone better.}

*C-Sec Offices*

"So?" Shepard asked, she was still a little ticked at how Cris told her about the other guy—Arty or something? "Is he who you think he is?"

I rub the back of my neck, a little habit I have when I feel tired. "Yeah, I barely said anything and he confirmed it all with his demands. His gear proved it too." I turn to Ian, "You got the report on when he was brought in?" He hands it to me. Garrus is telling him more about what he did on—where did he say? Oh, right—Omega. Skimming through the report, I focus more on what Artyom was saying. Well, if the report is anything to go by, screaming about a metro, Dark ones, D6, his mistake. Looks like this is an alternate Artyom; that means he knows stealth. "Shepard, I say we take this guy with us. He'll definitely be an asset."

"Right," She walks towards me and looks me right in the eyes. Oof! I fall backwards into a chair, didn't even realize I was dropping back. "Full story, now." And in the interest of self-preservation and the desire to have kids in the future, I tell her about Artyom, the Metro and his story.

*2 days later*

SSV Normandy SR-2

{Oh my head…} Artyom pulled himself up and woke up with a massive migraine. {Never again am I drinking Ulman's moonshine. Brrr. That was nasty.} He put on his old clothes and grabbed new ones along with some soap. Making his way to the Men's room, he can still hardly believe what happened a few days ago. First being told of being not on Earth, but a space station, and a reality where the nuclear war never happened. At first, he was terrified and excited at the same time. Everything he knew was safe—the other man, the stranger he first saw told him. At first he didn't believe him, but after he was able to reiterate everything he had done, things none else should have known, he believed him. But what would he do now? When he was given an offer to join Shepard's crew, after being told why she was collecting certain people, he jumped at the chance.

Now he had a new home and a new mission. He always disliked killing people but had no real qualms about it. If he had to, he did, and as many as he could, but always with the intent to save others or complete his mission then. Most, if not all, were evil in some form: fascists, bandits, communist brutes.

Now he had a new mission, and he owed it to an individual who, like him, could identify with his new situation.

**Newcomers**

Random Café on the Citadel: 5 minutes walking distance from Normandy SR-2 airlock

Well, looks like my theory might be right. I've been looking through the extranet—particularly that of human history, and certain events here don't match up to mine. Obama was president in 2009. Here some guy name Ricardo was elected 2005 to 2012. And Metro 2033, the book or the game, never existed in this reality either.  
>I don't think this is just simple time travel, least for me. Two-cross dimensional travelers, and maybe a third? I don't like this, like Delta-62 once said "Rule 89: one's an anomaly, two's a trend." And I have the feeling Artyom and I are not going to be the only ones.<p>

**Newcomers**

Same area +10 meters above.

This kid he saw, he RECOGINZED me. That hasn't happened, not for the last five years. Five years of living without a price on my head. I need to know— Someone's running, right in this kid's direction. Better get out of here; someone's coming.

**New Arrivals**

Well, not much I can do about that. Just hope for the best, I guess. And hopefully—"Chris!" What the…? "We gotta get out of here!"

I turn around to see Garrus and Ian running toward me—well, the Normandy—at speed. With what looks like—"Jesus!"—HALF of the C-Sec department on their ass! "What did you guys do?"

"No time! Talk later!" Ian zooms past me. "RUN NOW!" I look back at the mob and the last thing on my mind is…

"BOOK IT!" I slam done the portable terminal I brought with me and run after Garrus and Ian. Three years of varsity soccer, five of martial arts and six of chasing diablos ninos have a lasting effect.

We literally slam into the Normandy's inner airlock door, (who the hell opened the door?) and the outer doors seal. (Who the hell is doing this?) I close my eyes, fall back in relief and hit the floor.

"So, Garrus. You mind telling me why your friend is on my ship?" Crap. "And why we now have to head for the Relay to avoid C-Sec?" Ok, I take that back. _This_ is going to be good.

A/N: Well guys, what do you think? Remember reviews are my bread and butter for stories. My reason to write aside from self-entertainment. 7s ready soon. Just wondering if i should post it beta or unbetaed. Tell me.

A/N: For inFamous fans, check out my ME:inFamous crossover story and vote on my poll for that sorry.


	7. Prototype, Pisshole, Procurement

New Arrivals Ch.7

*note: Minor updates and add-on

**Normandy Mess Hall**

"So let me get this straight," I put down my coffee, nasty stuff straight up, "You guys had an argument over what to do now that Garrus was back," Ian nodded, "The turian councilor showed up," again nod, "And for all intents and purposes, you DECKED HIM?" I started cracking up; they get the whole of C-Sec after them after punching, if what they said was true, the biggest asshole I have ever heard of. And I went to public school. (A/N: no offense meant, and I seriously did go, but it can't be denied, some people are pretty thick in the head and are total jerks.)

The duo, Garrus and Ian, waited for me to calm down; both had looks of being proud and embarrassed at the same time. "Well when you put it that way…" Ian said, "The guy had been getting on my nerves recently, I mean, with what he's been saying about Shepard and the Reapers. Along with him and the rest of the Council ignoring the obvious, yeah he's been getting pretty annoying."

"Still doesn't explain how or why the entire C-Sec department was on your ass though."

"Well that's something else." Garrus took over, "After that happened the councilor put a bounty on us after we left, along with a huge pay raise in C-sec to whoever caught us." Garrus took a sip of his dextro-friendly coffee, "Doesn't help I insulted his clan and family for good measure, boy was he pissed."

"Not to mention I kicked hard in the nuts after he insulted both Garrus and Shepard." Ian added. "He called my brother a "race-traitor" and "human-lover"." He smiles at the memory, "I think he sounds better falsetto."

…"Wait, what?" Ok, either their bullshitting me, or something else is going on. That can't be all of it. I mean, they had half of C-Sec on their ass, it can't be that corrupt.

...I take that back...

But still, "Wait, can the Council even do that? Make an offer like that I mean?"

"Not really but hey, the offer _sounded_ good." Garrus answered while he drank his coffee.

Ian slapped Garrus in the back of the head, "you also forgot to mention that you shot up the Councilor's skycar as your 'delayed severance pay'."

Shaking my head in amazement, "People are just too gullible. Speaking of which, what the hell is this 'Reaper' you guys said before? Shepard only told me about the Collectors, not much else."

The two stare at me, then each other, well Ian mainly and him giving Garrus, 'is he stupid or something look' and Garrus giving him, 'Don't look at me, ask him' look. Ian starts off, "Well, two years ago,-"

1 Hour later, CIC deck

Bloody hell, out of everything she told me, she leaves out the little fact about a _sentient species of machines_ and a potential fleet of said species are coming for us? All with the intent of wiping the galaxy clean of life? What next, AIs taking over the galaxy, matrix-style? Gah, what a pain. Add in the standard political-bullshit and voila: a recipe for Armageddon.

And they don't even have anything as far as orbital defense platforms, lest what I've found, whatever there is is a freaking disaster. I mean you get a big enough armada to match a defending fleet in numbers, bang bang, planet's screwed over six ways to Sunday. Once the defending fleets gone, not much is safe from orbital bombardment.

Not to mention the fact that everything they have is based on Reaper tech. I mean for the love all that is good and decent, reverse-engineering is one thing, but the fact the bad guys gave us everything: It's a recipe for disaster.

I need to start working on some ideas; something of the things bunch of friends and I cooked up in theoretical designs. Maybe here they might actually work. Going to need some help though, speaking of which, "Hey Jacob! You got a moment? Got something I run past you, a prototype design, and if I'm lucky, this will really tip the odds in our favor."

He looked up from the rifle he had been cleaning, and asked "What you got for me?"

5 Hours later(Armory)

I stand up to stretch, my back cracks loud enough to hear it. "Ahhh,"

Jacob does the same, though his doesn't crack at all. "I got to admit, this design should work, and I'll get started on producing a prototype soon, along with some ammo. It's going to be expensive though, the platform itself is going to cost, and the fact that it's going to be using chemical propellants also doesn't help." He grins though, "Still, doesn't mean this won't be worth it."

EDI's avatar pops up on the table, she's been helping us on and off with this. Mostly with getting calculations we'll need to program into the weapon for it to work as planned."We can mitigate the cost by using salvaged equipment along with harvested resources. The scanner and probes can be easily recalibrated to include the extra material you will need for your project." Hmm, I wonder if we'll be able to forge the brass here though, "The ship is also capable of purifying ores and minerals necessary for producing the weapon and its unique munitions." Well that solves that problem. I'll admit, so far sh- it's, been pretty helpful. But I've got my eye on it. Paranoia's kept me out of trouble before, no reason to ditch it now.

I turn to face Jacob, "Hey thanks for the help, never would've figure out how to design this thing on my own." I do concepts; I'm not skilled enough for actual design of something like this, especially not eezo tech.

"Yeah well, give us some more ideas and the Collectors should be easy picking."

"I'm just hoping the inertial-dampeners work; I don't exactly want that thing hitting dislocating a shoulder every time someone shoots it." I said grimacing.

Jacob just laughs, "Right, I'll be seeing you, Talk to you later."

Illusive Man: Orbital Station

"Interesting, this design, perhaps my decision to keep the man was not made in misplaced faith after all." He examined the blueprints EDI had sent to him as per her programming, and suffice it say, it piqued his interest. "If he can create designs such as this, we better keep an eye on him." He called over one of his many assistants, "Get an engineering team working on this; I want them produced, tested and improved upon. Codename: Lancer."

"Yes sir." The aide walked away, leaving the Illusive man to his thoughts.

*Later*

This planet, it doesn't feel right, whatever happened here is going to remain for a damned long time.

I put down one last gray creature, its like a zombie, but i can see its cybernetic.

"Charge is at 50%" I can hear EDI's voice but it's different, distorted. I try to focus on. 'What's going on?' I want to sit down, but it's as though I'm a prisoner in my own body.

Then everything starts to blur. When it stops I look up to find Shepard screaming at me, telling me to get up. Just before _something _throws her across the area. I see her shields shatter from the impact and a crate falls onto of her. Pinning her.

She's still screaming for me to get up but the thing that threw her is above me and it raises a spiked limb and it comes down toward me-

"AHHH!" I scramble and have my face meeting the floor. 'what the hell was that?' Getting off the floor, the clock reads 1:45 am shiptime.

Please don't tell it's happened again. It's happened before for mundane things but that was anything but. Please, let that have just been a dream. Please.

Normandy SR2

Omega, from what everyone's told me, the ass-end of the whole damn universe. Crimes, gangs, mercenaries, crime lords, basically all the crap that can happen sampled at one place. Can't deny whoever decided to mine out an asteroid then turn the damn place into a city wasn't a genius. Hell the architecture is damned impressive.

Just glad I managed to get Garrus and Jacob to train me up in the weapons they got here. These things are nothing like the things back home. Got an M-96 Mattock, learned I was more of a marksmen then spray and pray. An M-3 Predator, the Phalanx just scares me with its recoil. Last time I felt that kind of pain in my arms was in martial arts: sparring a guy two ranks higher, blocked his tornado kick. My arms ached for a week. Took a M-4 Shuriken pistol, what the hell. Took the M-9 Mantis, note to self: don't get to close to scope and hold it tight or get a black eye. Avoiding the shotguns for now. I still remember using my friend's shotgun for the first time. Used it as he told me, then for shits and giggles, used it from the hip action-movie style. I can still hear his laugh from when it knocked me on my ass like an idiot. Train up first. Don't need to get knocked down in combat by being an idiot.

I need to ask Shepard when we dock to go shopping. Jacob needs some parts for the project. And Donelly and Garrus told me you can get just about anything on Omega. He needs FB-32 stabilizers and K-29 mounts along with a L6S-5S modulator/acceleration package?

We're docking with Omega and I can hear Shepard moving toward the airlock. She's being flanked by Garrus and Jacob along with the woman with all the tattoos. Crap. She's not going to be helping me...

I look around and see Ian, fully armed and armored, though some reason with his trench coat over his armor. I got to say, looks pretty badass, especially since he has a full helmet too. Reminds me of the NCR ranger from Fallout New Vegas.

I call to him, "Hey Ian, get off your bum and let's get moving!" He looks at me, well turns his head, "We're going shopping." I told him with a grin. His body language says it all, 'What the? A GUY that LIKES SHOPPING? God help me' Damn wish I could take a holo of that.

Omega Stores(10 minutes later)

Ok it's official, we're boned. Neither of us have any idea what the hell these parts are and Ian's trying his damned hardest to make sure we don't get ripped off,(or robbed). Me I'm constantly fingering my M-4 because I keep hearing some damned weird noises, like someone's following me.

Right, "Ok, so, we're on Omega, we're trying to get Jacob some parts, we've got no idea what the things on this list are, and we have absolutely no idea where to go. Any ideas?"

"Hold on," Ian brings up his omni-tool, which was obviously upgraded, more of red then orange hue to the thing, "I might have a contact here." I cocked an eyebrow, he sees that and answers, "Garrus and I had to do so some odd jobs before, especially when Garrus and I did a stint with the commander." I open my mouth when he goes, "Don't ask."

'but-'

"Seriously."

*2 hours later*

Well aside from a random Batarian that tried to shake us down, until the guy reconginzed Ian, plus the standard painful memory download about the guy's species, nothing much else happened. The Commander is on her way to get Intel from Aria.

A salarian walks ups to the pair of us, "Ian, never thought I would ever have to see your ugly face again." Guy has a nasty scar across his face, looks like from a knife or shrapnel strike.

"Praven, I thought the exact same thing myself." They look at each other until they grasp each other in a warrior's handshake. "Damn man how you've been doing? Sorry about what happened last time we met."

The salarian, Praven, is chuckling, "Yeah well I forgive you, and it was Garrus's fault anyway. So what did you want to me for? Sounded like you needed something."

"Yeah well I need a favor." Ian jerks his thumb over to me. "Guy has a list of some parts he needs and he needs them in BULK. And DON'T ask me why he needs them or what they are, I doubt he knows either."

Praven waves to me to hand over the datapad, I do so and his eyes widen as he scrolls down the list. He looked at me, "You want these in BULK?"

I nod, "Yeah why, is there a problem?"

He shakes his head, "Not really if you don't mind getting the attention of every major player on Omega."

"What are you saying?" Ian looked wary, "What do you mean 'every major player on Omega'?"

"Just, these parts are around and in bulk, but getting them will attract attention." He scrolls the list before he points at one of them, "the stabilizer? It's usually for heavy duty rifles and machine guns, YMIR-mech grade, help to keep the rounds on target no matter the size or 's going to attract the Eclipse. This branch and in general tends to go mech heavy and biotics."

'Uh Eclispe?'

"The mounts? Used for anti-material rifles and turrets, meant to secure the weapons onto a platform or anything solid. That's going to attract both the Blue Suns and the Blood Pack. They like gunships and turrets."

'Blood Pack? Blue Suns? Who the hell are they?'

The modulators? Hell you really don't see that except personal upgrades. Eclipse and Blue Suns, mostly for the higher ups. Ups the velocity by, hell I don't even know but I know I want to_ behind_ that kind of gun." He rereads the list, muttering to himself before he turns back to me and Ian. "Give me a few days and I'll have the stuff ready for pickup. Need to keep this under the radar. If we could get Aria's help…"

"We could do that." I said, though I don't really know why. Ah that's right, she let me on the ship.

"Really, how?" He gives me and Ian a skeptically look. I look toward Ian and a silent rapid conversation passes before I see the same glint in his eye. We turn to Praven and say, "Shepard."

A/N: well a new toy is about to enter the fray and a shout out to iNf3ctioNZ for his help.


	8. Ambush, Disease and Surprises

New Arrivals Ch 8

Unbetaed except for Ian's parts.

IS SUBJECT TO CHANGE. Will most likely be changed later.

A/N: This is now a collab effort with me and TheHeartUnknown aka: Liveandloveart on deviant art. If you like fluff and Shep/Liara, go check her profile out!

A/N: sorry for the great gap between this and last update. Great writer's block along with the fact that I have managed to make this a collab effort story all over again. :D

And for those of you who say Cris seems to be taking it TOO well for being in the ME 'verse all of sudden. Wait till the next chapter. :D

Omega: Warehouse district

"SHIT!" I duck back behind the fallen wall. "Ian where are you!"

"Here!" I heard him yell from my left inside what's left of the building. I hear him fire off a couple of shoots from his pistol. His assault rifle got nailed by some lucky bastard's shot so now it's wrecked: SOB managed to hit the thermal clip feeder so it's jammed.

Damn bullets are flying everywhere, peppering everything around us. Its not so much as I hear, more like I feel the rounds pass over my head.

We're both out of ammo for our snipers, got half a 3 clips for my Mattock rifle and a couple clips for the Predator. No idea what Ian's got left. Normally it would be enough for most situations as it is, but when Praven said we get everyone's attention he meant EVERYONE. Blue Suns, Eclipse, Blood Pack, free-lancers, and some other branch.

Peeking over the barricade, it looks like everyone's still shooting at each other. And give me and Ian a breather, thank you. Scouting the area, I see BPs vorcha, out in the open like idiots.

Blues Suns, firing from cover, but can't aim for their lives. They're getting picked off.

Eclispe are doing the most damage with their tech attacks.

But THAT group has some skill. With the fewest guys maybe a dozen, but they're pros, cover fire and precision shots. Those guys are trained, if only-

"What the hell?" what I saw scared me. All of a sudden a bright blue biotic ball of something came crashing down on the mercs, sending them into the air.

Right in the middle of the battleground...

And there she was standing there... I didn't know what to make of her. Was she friend or foe? I couldn't tell. Pale blue skin and an elegant form..

"Yup definitely an Asari." I spoke aloud.

Her eyes caught mine and my breath caught in my throat. Eyes like ice and thunder, and an aura that sent the chills down my spine to confirm her prowess. But something didn't make sense as I managed to breifly look her over. She had no marks no decals signifying if she was affliated with any merc group... loner? As I was profiling her I caught her doing the same, a mark that appeared to look like an eyebrow perked up. I intrigued her.

But why? I'm not anything special-

*clang!*

"SHIT!" I felt that shot, clipped me on the helmet. That's twice now someone shot at me, me specifically. You know, when it's a sniper round. This isn't good, there's too many guys, and it's turned into a damn free-for-fall.

What I want to know is who activated that shipment of mechs. SERIOUSLY? Who keeps that many mechs in one place anyway? I peak my head up and see a trio of LOKI mechs, the thing turns and spouts, "Hostiles detected".

"Crap!"

Ducking back into cover I can't help but wonder: how the hell did this happen again?

**5 weeks ago**

"Right, so this is going to take a few days before all this is settled?" Ian was talking with Praven on his omni-tool, I managed to convince him to go looking for some new guns and upgrades. The armor that quote unquote, "Illusive Man" gave me is great but I always think things could be better. That and the helmet's a little dinky so I it left behind. I mean, just a simple helmet with eye-holes, not very intimidating, maybe a crosshair or T-slit type visor. "Right, tell me when and where once it's all done, and keep it under the radar alright?" He looks to me, "Right it's going to be a while before Praven's ready with the goods, in the mean time lets find with Shepard and you tell me what in the Seven Hell's you need these things for. Not to mention where you came from," I can feel the glare coming from him,

Normally I'd interrogate you for some answers, but I'll let that pass because of Garrus. I trust my brother. But doesn't mean I trust you."

I nod and we start going towards Afterlife, "Right," ignoring the quip about my status of trust, "well, after you guys told me about the Reapers and Garrus told me what had happened to Saren after his first death, with his resurrection and all, I figured we'd need some major firepower, and I've this little idea that won't go away…"

*Some time later*

"You're kidding me." Ian's shaking his head at what I suggested to build, well, am going to be building with Jacob and EDI. Shaking his head he says, "You better either keep Garrus out of the loop on this one or bring him in. If that thing can do what you hope it does, well you better have one for him or he's going to tear you to shreds." You can hear the grin on his face.

I wave him off, "Yeah, Yeah, I'll make sure he knows. Need his help calibrating it anyway. He probably can spend some time on my toys instead of his all day for once. Let's talk about this later, for now let's get to Shepard."

"You go on. I'll stay here for a bit. See you back at the Normandy."

I touch my index and middle finger together to my temple and give a mini-salute. I head toward Afterlife to find Shepard.

"I said get lost lady! No one's allowed in during the quarantine."

"I'm human you bastard! Humans can't get the plague; now let me so I can get my stuff before looters do!"

"Not happening lady."

Shepard pauses before looking at us, well me, "Stay here, and let me handle this." No problems there, I raise my hands in surrender. She goes and talks with the guard only I can't hear a thing.

Soon enough though she waves us forward and the other woman there starts griping again.

"Wait you're letting HER in?"

"You don't have a grenade launcher lady."

The moment we step inside Shepard pulls out her rifle and the rest of us follow suit. Me, Jacob and that woman, Miranda I think? Guess she didn't want Garrus to tag along since she sent him back to the ship.

We went past the guards and the air changed. *Cough cough*, "What's that smell?" Smells like New York downtown on trash day. And local kids decide to go garbage bashing.

"That's Omega for you, it's the ass end of the galaxy." Jacob said. Ass end nothing. The smell of rot and people living in slums and streets is pungent. That's not it though.

Still coughing I answer, "No, I mean the smell that's mixed with ash." *cough* "Someone's lite some big fires." The ash is thick enough in the air that my pitch-black armor is starting to gray from it.

Miranda raised an eyebrow, "How can you smell something like that? It's impossible to differentiate smells here."

"You've ever been to New York?" Miranda shook her head, "I lived there for a couple of years. Rule number 1: get used to the smell and ignore it. Otherwise you'll be coughing every day. Had ot learn that rule fast." (BTW: I did live in NYC, earliest memory there is me coughing first time I entered the city and nose hurting from all the smells for about a week when I was a kid.) "You learn to ignore the worst of it." 'You had to if you wanted to use your nose to avoid the worse smelling areas or somewhere to buy lunch.' I remember. 'Got to learn to ignore the other smells.' *cough cough*

"Let's get moving; we'll figure it out later." And later we did. Shepard found and took down a pair of Blue Suns Mercs, and there were two blazes nearby. It was fueled by bodies.

*cough cough*

My vision is starting to waver in and out but I can't tell if it was the sweat getting into my eyes from the heat. I wiped away another trickle with the back of my hand coughing once more. My skin feels like it's burning from the inside out... 'What the hell is wrong with me?" I look around for any reassurance but Shepard and the others seem to be amidst something else not, noticing a thing. 'Okay calm down maybe it's just this damn annoying cough'.

I look back at the burning bodies as my vision clears a bit, I turn to Shepard, who was looking over from a terminal she was hacking, the smell and sight damn near made me want to puke. The smell was more pungent than anything I've ever smelt before. The filth on the bodies, their last meals, their clothes, all burn and create a sight of pure horror.

*cough cough*

Only good thing about this is at the end it's all just going to be ash. Shepard turns when I start coughing again. Seeing my face she says, "Standard Triage and Quarantine Protocol, burn the infected the bodies to reduce transmitting of the disease by the corpses." She shakes my shoulder, "Let's get moving." We go past a Batarian who's looking at Shepard gratefully.

*cough cough*, "Hell, what's happening to me?" *cough cough* "Ow." *Cough cough.*

Everyone starts looking at me, Jacob, Shepard, and Miranda's edging away a bit. I thump my chest a few times, "It's nothing." Why they looking at me like that? "What?" They all turn forward, but I notice they all give me a wide berth.

"Come on. Let's get moving." Shepard orders.

*cough cough*

We pass by other locked doors, inside each of them we find more of the dead. Starved, or killed by this Plague. Soon enough we come to an open area, Shepard orders to hold position. Before pointing to certain areas, "Miranda, get as close to the barricade as you can, but keep out of sight. On my order throw a warp at the closest guy and open fire." She nods and starts moving. "Jacob, get ready to run to cover on the other side once we open fire. Once you do, use your pull to bring whoever looks the most danger over the barricade. Throw them off balance. Light up with incendiary rounds." He gets ready, pulling out his Eviscerator shotgun. "Cris," I look toward her and she point up, "Get upstairs and get ready. Use your sniper rifle. Take out as many as you can." I nod but before I move I ask,

"When do I start firing?"

She pulls out her M-15 Vindicator, "You decide."

Nodding I make my way upstairs, pulling out the Mantis as I go. Getting up there, I took cover by the windows. I load the rifle, put it on the railing and look through the scope. Getting a feel for the rifle I place the crosshairs on a batarian's head. I place my finger on the trigger, my breathing slows, like my cousin taught me, I start to squeeze the trigger… and I can't.

I've never done this before: killing another thinking being. Every time I've shot a gun it was only at a range. At paper targets. I know what to do, but actually doing it. It's different.

Do I do this? Can I? This is different now, my life is different. My comm. crackles, "Cris, you ok?"

I suppress my emotions; I'll deal with the emotional later.

As someone once said, "We all have our choices to make." "Ready." Emotions are a burden on the battlefield. "Firing in three," I reset my finger, "two," I start to squeeze, "one." The Mantis kicks back and through the scope I see the Batarian just flop to the ground. The other mercenaries on the barricade start to panic. The helmeted one next to the now-dead Batarian falls to a 3-round burst from Shepard. A turian is disintegrated by Miranda's Warp. And another helmeted is yanked into the air by Jacob before being filled with incendiary rounds.

I stop thinking and let my body move as it will.

Reload. Aim. Fire. Target down.

Again.

Reload. Aim. Fire. Another.

Again.

Reload. Aim. Fire. Another.

**5 Minutes earlier: Shepard**

'Come on already,' Shepard thought, 'what's taking so long?' Shepard clicked her comm. "Cris, you ok?"

It took a minute but when he responded it chilled Shepard to the core, "Ready." It was dead, cold, and emotionless. Like how she had been after the Batarian attack on her colony when she was a kid: it scared her. It was a sign of someone turning into a machine. She shook herself out of her stupor when she heard, "Firing in three," she retook her stance, "two" she set her rifle for disruptor rounds, "one". She hears the Mantis shot and a Batarian just falls to the ground. She fires her Vindicator at a helmeted merc, all three shots of the burst hitting their mark. As she takes a bead on another, she sees Miranda throwing a Warp and Jacob throwing a Pull before filling the target with incendiaries.

She took a bead on another target but it went down before she could pull the trigger. Another target, and then another. Within five minutes every single Blue Suns merc that had come to re-enforce the barricade was dead. But still the sniper fire continued.

"What the hell is he doing?" Shepard ran up to Cris's position and found him pulling the trigger on an empty rifle. She was about to yell at him when she pulled the empty rifle out of his hands when she saw his eyes: they were empty, deprived of emotion. The air stank of ozone, coming from a pile of still warm expended thermal clips next to his feet. She reached out to him, "Cris?"The moment her hand made contact with his shoulder, his body went slack. His eyes rolling to the back of his head before he falling forward.

"Shepard," She turned around to see Miranda, with a lop-sided haircut. The hair on one side of her head had been sliced off.

"What happened to you?"

Miranda had an angry tick on her face as she pointed at Cris's unconscious body. "_HE _happened. He shot at me through my shields." She crossed her arms, "I told you Commander we should have gotten rid of him."

'Well that explains the haircut,' Shepard realized, 'never knew he was that good of a shot.' Cris's round had penetrated Miranda's shields and clipped her hair. 'Note to self: take a holo later for Cris.'

Shepard glared at her, but got no reaction. 'Why is she so antagonistic to him though?' she thought. 'He's done nothing but try to help the crew since he woke up. There's something else going on here.' Shaking her head, she motioned Jacob to come over and carry Cris while she called for Ian and Garrus. 'This is just going to add fuel to the fire.'

"We'll deal with it later. For now let's get him to the Clinic and get the Doctor."

**New Arrivals**

'What the hell happened?' Lights, red. Pain. 'Must be the emergency lighting, but where the hell am I?' Taking a whiff of the air while i get up I realize the place smells like rot and antiseptics.

"Curious. Never seen this before, more tests needed. Could be artificial, perhaps gene therapy? No, no, impossible. Degradation of sample does not match timeline." Whoever was speaking was on a caffeine, sugar and speed high. "Ah, subject awake." Turning I find myself looking at, if I recall correctly, a Salarian.

This guy's seen his share of action: got major scarring, disfigurement: all signs of a battle-hardened veteran.

"You have questions yes?" Before I can even respond he goes, "You came here with Shepard. Dropped you off, unconscious. Suspect overlord of nervous system by stress and adrenaline. Not to included concussion induced by krogan. Sent Shepard to restart station's fan system and distribute cure to plague." He was interrupted by a rough clanking noise as said fans began activating at that moment. "Ah, excellent. Cure should spread throughout station now. Eliminate Plague. Hope Vorcha didn't prove too troublesome." Whatever he made it with, smells like gasoline. Or is that just Omega?

Finally stopping I managed to get a word in, "So you're Doctor Mordin Solus?"

"Yes, former STG. Already informed on mission. Will join as soon as Shepard returns. Question: any history of genetic manipulation?" I twist my neck and rotate it to get the worst of the stiffness out of it. I stop cold though as soon as he asked that.

'What the? What kind of question is that?' "No. Never, why?" 'Why the hell he ask something like that?' I stretch to get some feeling back in my body before doing a pat down of my armor. All the while the Salar- Dr. Solus, is looking over his terminal and muttering to himself. I can barely make out some of it.

"Strange..DNA ...not fully...human. Evidence of genetic...aberrations. Present...other.. Unnoticed...until..subject. Aberration...in plain sight...unnoticed otherwise. In others...nonexistent. Wonder if-"

"WHOA. Doc, what are you talking about?"

He turns back and says, "Comparison to other humans, 95% human, 5% unknown. Possibly hybrid with other species."

'huh that don't make sense.' "And how do you figure that?" Crossing my arms I give him my best glare, "I'm pretty damn sure this is 100% pure human."

"Plague. Signs of infection in lungs and trachea. Symptoms of plague included hard coughs and shortness of breath. Should be impossible; humans totally immune to plague. Should never have any signs of its."

"But-" I never finished as Shepard walked in that moment. With a massive hand cannon attached to her hip.

"It's done." Shepard gives me a glance but I see the concern in her eyes. I resume trying to get the stiffness out of my neck and nod.

"Ah, excellent. Will join on your ship. Thanks for bringing Daniel back. Bit naïve, but will learn. Intelligent."

"Right. Let's get going then." Shepard said.

What the hell? You just get back, look at me and say 'let's get back'?

Nice to see you care Shepard.

Normandy: Crew Quarters

I left Shepard to talk with the Doctor and headed for my quarters. It's strange. How everything can seem normal. The crew chatting idly in the mess hall, the pungent stench of Gardener's cooking wafting in through the deck. The barely noticeable whirring noise in the air produced by the drive core.

But what happened after I fired that first shot keeps bothering me. Hell, ever since that dream couple weeks ago I haven't been right. No, ever since I woke up in this damn place it hasn't been right.

"What the hell happened to me?"

I keep running through my memories for what happened after I fired that first shot but everything's blank.

'I squeeze the trigger and'. And nothing. It's as those the memories are locked away. But this time not by my own volition.

I've done it before: locking down memories. Either the painful or embarrassing. But it was always a conscious effort whenever one cropped up. Just suppresing memories. Forcing them down so I can avoid them. Forcing myself to forget.

This though, this is different. It's someone's manipulating me. Playing me. Is there?

I mean, all this is too coincidental. Waking up on a ship with a captain that was willing to accept me. Having all my more important gear on me. Finding that Bastard Gun then Artyom. Possibly seeing Riddick.

I mean, is this someone toying with us? Playing God?

No. I refuse to believe there is some sort of god. Some sort puppeteer pulling all the strings.

"The future is not set. There is no fate but what we make for ourselves.*"

Shaking my head, I suppress the memory.

I hear Donnelly and Daniels chatting away as they headed toward the mess. Oh ho, there no way in hell am I letting something like this pass me by. With a feral grin on my face, I start planning.

"I think it's time I played matchmaker again."***

A/N: Sorry for long update. Have another chapter ready and still addicted to ME3. But life really loves messing me up. Writer's block and other exigent circumstances beyond my control were the cause.

Also, read my bio for updates on story and chapter progresses as such.

*Terminator 2: Judgement Day

***Any pairings people want to Cris to make happen? Tell me in reviews then will create poll. No Shepard in pairings though.***

And as of now, I am working on 4 stories. 3 posted. 2 WIP.

I will have a poll later for suggested order of writing priority.

Again I'm sorry for slow update.

Shout out to iNf3ctioNZ for his part to my story at my request.


	9. Realizations, History, Friends

New Arrivals Ch. 9

[Unbetated]

{Russian}

"English"

**Omega: Afterlife: 4 days after Mordin's recruitment**

"Again." The bartender refills the shot. I down it. The loud music numbs my senses. It doesn't bother me though. Nothing compared to being next to the speakers at a rock concert. The air is thick with sweat from the dancers, aromas from the alcohol and fragrances some of the more, hopeful, patrons are wearing. It's been sometime since I've woken up here. And I hate it.

Hate it.

Hate it.

I empty the shot and slam it down on the bar. "Again."

What the hell am I even doing here? Why did I ask, no demand, to stay on? What the hell was I thinking? That's right I wasn't.

I down the shot, not even tasting it. "Again." My omnitool lights up and goes off. *buzz* I tap my omnitool again, hiding the reminder. When I data wiped my iPhone I copied every single piece of data on it: alerts, alarms, photos, videos. The omnitool took the data and organized it accordingly. And this morning, an alarm went off. A reminder, for my wedding of people closest to me: a man I considered a brother in all but blood, and a woman who was a sister in all but blood.

I drain another glass. Heh. It took me three months to get them together. Everyone else but them saw it. It took me inviting the both of them to everything I could and creating situations where they wanted a familiar face. Not my first success with my friends, but the first I had with those I considered family in all but blood.

I was supposed to have been best man. My 'brother' had asked me. A few days before I woke up here, was the day my brother got the courage to finally ask her, told me, and asked me to be his best man.

And both of them had asked to be their first kid's godfather.

Godfather, me! Hell I thought they were jumping the gun asking me, but damn. They were pretty adamant about it.

It was sheer coincidence that he asked a few days before Mardi Gras. Or was it? Maybe. I don't know.

Maybe I shouldn't be here. I mean, what can I do?

These guys are heroes, veterans, soldiers. Me, I'm just a guy who woke up in the wrong place. I'm just a civvie, I don't hold a candle to the rest of those guys. Forget it, I'll do more harm than good if I stay. Next chance I get, I'll ask Shepard to drop me off on the, what was it again? Oh right, the Citadel. Make I find something there.

I pick the glass again only for someone to place his hand on my arm. Reaching for the knife on my belt that I got from Jacob, "You want to keep that hand, you better back off."

{What? And let my friend have all the fun?}

It comes out as English, but I can hear the accent. Turning, I find myself looking into the face of Artyom. Going back to my drink, I mutter, "Piss off."

He frowns. {What is wrong my friend?} He started calling me that after I managed to persuade the Commander to let him on. Had a hell of time convincing her to take him, if only for his stealth skills. He sits down next to me, {normally with such heavy drinking, I would assume you are celebrating. But from the look on your face…} he trails off but the message is clear. 'What is bothering you?'

I ignore him and instead call to the bartender for another shot. He shakes his head. Scowling, I toss a credit chit to him. A few hundreds worth. Before he brings it over though, I see Artyom gesture toward the bartender for something who brings a bottle over, leaving it. When I ask him where he gets the money, he says, {I found it.} I turn to tell him to just leave me alone, when instead of talking, he hands me a filled shot, holding another in his off hand.

I swallow the drink. *Cough, cough, cough* Agh, that stuff burned. Turning toward Arytom I ask, "What is this stuff?"

He starts cracking up. {THAT my friend, is what they apparently call Vodka.} It comes out as VoD-kA. If that grin on his face got any bigger, he'd split his face in two. {Though I will say it is pretty mild to what my friend gave me.} His expression totally turns somber. {You know, it only seems yesterday that I was talking to my friend Hunter at Exhibition. Since I took the railcar to Riga, and to have met Kahn.} He doesn't elaborate since we both are aware of his story. His life, my fiction.

"Yeah, only yesterday since my 'brother' asked me to be his best man at his wedding." He keeps pouring drinks for each of us, feeling less and less of the burn from the alcohol with each drink. Only yesterday since I went out to celebrate, before I woke up here."

{It seems we are both in situations neither of us would rather be in? eh my friend?}

I ignore him though. Is he, are they looking for me now? The wedding would have started already. A small affair, for only the closest of us all. Maybe, or perhaps not. It's surprisingly easy to fade into the background. To simply hide amongst many and be forgotten.

"How do you do it Artyom?" Something I've always wondered about these heroes in stories. "How do you keep moving on? To have everything you know ripped away from you and still manage to do what is right, rather than just surrender and let it all go?*"

{I honestly don't know. I simply keep thinking, 'this is for Exhibition, for my home and my family and friends; to keep them safe.' My father once told me, 'we our human. We may fall into the abyss time and time again, but that is what our species does. We take the pain, and we soldier on. If not for our sakes, but the sake of others. To keep them from the abyss.'}

He sounds like my 'brother'. "Those of us, who fight, do it not for honor, nor gain or glory. They fight for the man next them to them, the families they left behind, the generations yet unborn. And the rest of us, though we may not be heroes or warrior, we can still aid them. Granting them the weapons to fight and the tools to wage war."

Maybe I can do some good. If not myself, at the very least create the tools so others can fight.

**New Arrivals**

Deck 2: Armory

Entering the armory, I see Jacob cleaning a M-15 Vindicator rifle, need to try that out. Walking up to him, I grab his shoulder and ask, "Hey Jacob, how's the prototype coming along?"

He stops and turns to me before shaking his head. "Nothing yet: I still need the parts before I start on anything other than the ammunition."

"What for?"

"Parts are critical, and with something like this, I need to run a test at every opportunity. Don't want this thing blowing up in our face." Jacob crouches and starts looking through some cabinets. "Don't forget no one ever thought of something this before."

Yikes. Never thought of that. Experimental technology: you can't know what'll happen. "Yeah, you're right." I snap my fingers. "You said you could start on the ammunition?"

"Yeah, hold on a minute." He heads toward the back area, there's some crates which he opens one and places on the table. He reaches inside and takes out a bullet. "Here, I only made a few dozen or so. And I got ideas on how to modify the rounds for special purposes." He tosses it one to me. "I swear, if someone told me I'd be making honest-to-god gunpowder weapons I would have told them they were crazy."

I nod and scrutinize the round. "I don't blame you. Mass Effect weapons are better than the old guns, but still."

The round's about the size of a .50 caliber BMG cartridges, maybe a little bigger. The brass is polished to a mirror shine. Looking at the tip, I can see the edges of the primary layer peeking out from the top, overlapping the better part of the actual round..

"So what you leave the military and join Cerberus?" Shepard told me of just 'bout everything on these people. And go to say, Cerberus takes paranoid to a whole new level. At Jacob's face I tell him, "Your stance, and your posture. It just screams 'ex-military'. I should know with couple dozen friends and family in the force."

Going back to the round I turn it to see the three lines in primary layer" The tip of the round is just above the primary layer. The round is a jacketed sabot round. With a core spike round, and an inner fin layer that are attached to the body like an arrow's tails. On top of which is a fin layer that operates on similar principles to the Russian RPG-7's rockets. The fins are folded down onto the round itself, and they deploy after they leave the barrel. Those fins detach at a set interval, before the 'tails' take over for direction; the reduced mass allowing the round to travel further and maintain accuracy and some of its velocity. The 'tails' themselves also detach at a set interval also, leaving just the spike round itself. **

"Honestly," looking up, Jacob's leaning against his workbench, stress lines marking his face, "it was cause of all the damn red tape."

"Ah, the bureaucracy: Can't live with it, can't live without it."

"Tell me about it. I mean, I can understand the need for it, but when the Alliance and the Council just swept it all under. Not to mention how they insulted Shepard after she died. I just couldn't take it."

"So you went to the 'private sector'."

He shrugs. "Yeah, I guess you could call it that. I might not agree with some of the things they say, but they get the job done."

"Choosing the lesser of two evils in a sense huh? You either stayed or did nothing while waiting for the inevitable. Or you join the only organization willing to do anything to stop it, but at the cost of its reputation becoming your own."

"Yeah I guess. Maybe Shepard can change their minds though." I give him 'a you serious?' look.

"Uh, their politicians?"

He grins, "Your right what was I thinking? Where did you get the idea for this thing anyway?"

"It's an idea a few friends and I devised. A new completely but theoretical Anti-armor weapon." I shrug. "We just had the idea of combining both mass accelerator tech and gunpowder tech. Never thought we'd actually see it built or even considered in our lifetimes." Stifling a yawn I add, "Figured it'd be needed if Garrus's story about that undead Turian guy is true." Looking back to Jacob I ask him,

"Tested it yet?"

Jacob shook his head. "Haven't actually fired it yet, but all virtual firings and other manual tests show that the round should work as planned; I'll say this: to make the bullets cast from solid bronze. You put a whole new shine on the word overkill."*

I smile. "When you need, and don't have it, you sing a different tune."* I smirk before tossing the round into the air and snatch it out of the air, and putting it in my pocket. "Thanks for that. We managed to find the parts, well Ian did, but it's going to take his contacts a little while longer to get it."

"Ok. I'm still making some minor changes to the system. Virtual tests have been coming up with errors."

"Any way I can help?"

"It's ok. I'll handle it. It's nice to have something other than maintenance to occupy my time."

"Right see you later then Jacob."

He stops me as I open the door. "Oh, and you might to avoid Miranda for a while."

"Why? She still pissed the Commander let me stay on?"

"No." He seems to be trying to suppress a laugh. "She's 'pissed' as you put it, ' for giving her that haircut on Omega."

"Huh?" I raise an eyebrow, "What are you talking about?" I never tried to give her a haircut. Especially not on Omega. I was passed out half time she was there!

He chuckles, "Whatever. I'll go back to work."

"Later."

**Engineering**

I exit the elevator, still trying to think of what the hell happened on Omega. But everything from when I took that first shot to when waking up is a total blank. Still, whatever I did couldn't have been that bad right? I mean, he said it-

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM!" I hear a slight whoosh of wind and turn-

"Oomph!" And serve as an airbag for one Lia'Vael nar Ulnay. "Ugh….."

Shaking my head to get the world to stop spinning and picking my head up I find said Quarian to be sitting on me and ask, "You ok Lia?"

Holding her head, well helmet if you want to technical, as she rises to a sitting position she answers, "Yes, I'm fine. I just went below deck to adjust some cables and fix some power issues. There's a crazy biotic down there who threw me out once she saw me."

Uh, I realize that Lia is on a very awkward position for me. I had landed on my back and she landed on top of me, sitting on my hips. "Uh, Lia?"

"I need to get down there; I don't want to get kicked off this ship. I mean, this place is incredible and everyone seems to accept me for who I am, not what I am."

"Uh, Lia, I need to ask you something…"

"And that crazy bosh'tet is going to be the reason to get me kicked off this ship!" She's been pounding my chest throughout her tirade and it's starting to hurt."

"Lia, look at me." She does, and apparently still doesn't realize anything. "One: Shepard doesn't seem to be that kind of person so I think you're safe from 'eviction'. Two: let me try and talk to her downstairs, I can be persuasive sometimes. And three: think you get off of me?"

Lia looks at me at that last request before realizing that she's straddling me and practically jumps off me, very flustered and embarrassed.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, I mean, I didn't even realize," she's stuttering and tripping over her words. A nervous habit apparently.

I place my hand on her shoulder to calm her down, "_udessi, udessi" _She tilts her head in confusion, "It's alright, no harm no foul." I let go, "Why are you so worked about this anyway? You really think the Commander would be so heartless and just throw you off the ship like that?"

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised if she did." Her tone tells me its something common, at least to her. "You don't know much about my people do you?"

"Only what I read in the Codex and I figure anything about people is 1 part truth and tens parts _osik._ Lies._" _

She nods, before she can say anything I stop her. "Look, let me try and talk to our resident psychopath. Maybe I can get her to calm down. I do have a way with words occasionally. Moving to the stairwell, add, "Let me handle this and I'll call you down if it's safe."

She nods, but says, "Be careful."

I grin. "Come on, how bad could she really be?"

**New Arrivals**

"W-What...? Where... Where am I? What is this place?! The last thing I remember is going down to Jack's hidey hole to try and convince her to let people down to work. But now... What is this, how did I get here?! Wherever I am, it's just darkness... Pitch black darkness...Blinking to clear my head, images start to come together.

I'm staring down at a floor. But, I'm hanging from the ceiling. A helmeted human, a helmeted Krogan and a Quarian pass under me. Their weapons raised, and strangely, the Krogan's shotgun looks familiar. Why? Nothing here is familiar to me. I look toward the human, a woman by her armor, is on point. I don't know why, but I know that she's my target.

I release one hand from the rod I'm gripping and extend my blade. Wait, blade? Sure enough I have what must be half a meter long blade extending from a mount on my right forearm.

Turning back down as the trio pass by, I drop from the ceiling without a sound. But the Quarian, a female, starts to turn around. Before she can draw a bead on me, before I even realize, I punch her in the chest with an open palm strike, sending her falling backwards and quickly alerting the others to my presence.

In a blur of motion, the Krogan spins around, and charges forward, I sidestep it, and watch it fly forward uncontrollably. Turning back around I charge forward, bringing my blade toward my target. She fires, the burst from her Revenant punching against my shields.

At that, something compels me to slide forward, aiming for her midsection. I connect, and her shields do nothing to stop me, but she doesn't fall backwards. A stream of blood flows down her armor, but she doesn't so much as flinch in pain... Her feet are turnedto give her a better footing. "Ugh!" The woman jumped on me! She's pinning me down with her hands and legs. "Rah!" I pull my right arm free and-she stopped me. Something compels me to look at her face... Perhaps a look into her eyes can give me some answers. But all I can see is her polarized visor is my own face! Why? What the hell is going- "Agh!" She head-butted me even when she's pinned!

Soon enough though, the visor clears, and finally shows me who I've been attacking. And it's... No... It can't be...!

Shepard?!

A/N: Hey, still on hiatus here. Got something out after so long. Yeah…sorry for such a lack of update. Been focusing on my ME:inFamous story. Tried to convey how the hopelessness of waking up in such a situation, with the right trigger, can hit hard. Most SI/OC stories where they enter the ME verse for the first time take it in stride for most of the time. Aside from a rare few, like Wozzeck's Mass Vexations, the character almost never breaks down.

For that reason, I might edit this later on to give it more realism. For now though, posting this to show this story isn't dead, just slow going.

Also, anyone want to create an OC for this story, tell me. Looking for a few OCs to add to this story. Whether as part of the crew or later on, that's to be decided.

**A/N: Yeah, was that too technical at all? If you haven't noticed by now, I kind of know a lot of bout stuff like this. You pick up a few things when you're studying machines and their history from jets to tanks to cars and other stuff. Tell me if it was too much.


	10. OC template

New Arrivals

At Reviewer's request.

Note: If this looks familiar, it's cause I'm using my friend's, LiveandloveArt on Deviantart , template for her OC's bio.

Also, please state if you want the character to be mainstream(part of the crew) or not.

Prospective OC template

(See link for better reference: #/d509vj8 [no art needed])

Name:

Species:

Appearance: Physical looks and armor

Bio(History): Tell me of what happened in their life. Do whatever you like but make sure to keep it believable. Don't turn them into like a god character and such. Otherwise, anything goes.

Personality: How do they behave? Paragon, Renegade, an in-between? Are they obvious about it? Or do they behave one way but are actually the other?

Fighting style: How and what do they prefer to use to fight.

Occupation: what do they do for a living? Are they mercs? Marines, bounty hunters, engineers? Etc etc.

Significant event: anything in their life happen to make them who they are? That permanently changed their personality from before? Example: Pirate raid on colony, orphan, etc…

Note: DO NOT turn them into a god character or a "better than everyone else"

Send it to me through a PM.


	11. New Toys, Secrets and Changes

New Arrivals Ch. 10

A/N: Hey, sorry for hiatus, been a while since I could write. Will be making edits to this chapter as I work on others.

Read and Review Please! Let me know if there's anything you would like to see or more of!

Deals, Discussions and Secrets

Wait, why the hell am I attacking Shepard? Looking into her eyes, I expect to see familiarity, kindness, but all I see, is the intent to Kill!

"Rah!" Shit! She freaking head-butted me! "You," Huh? I'll already back into a combat stance, right arm pulled back for a strike, but Shepard; she's almost gone feral. She's getting back up but through her visor I can see her eyes: they're burning with a fury straight from the depths of Hell. "I'm going to beat you, break you. And then you'll tell me where _he _is." And she activates an omnitool on her _right_ arm and pops out a, _holo-blade?_ She charges forward, but I stand my ground. I ready myself and throw my arm forward, the blade going right for the chestplate-

NO!

Wait, what the- Lights, ceiling. No Shepard, no armor, no blade thank god.

Just wh-OW, ribs, ow, ow.

"What the hell happened to me?"

"Oh, welcome back to the land of the living Mr. Andres." Dr. Chakwas was, as usual, at her desk. She got up and came toward me as I tried-ow.

-lied back down.

"What happened?" Last thing I remember is going down below deck to talk to that crazy chick; I think her name was Jack?

She picked up a tablet on the desk next to my bed and started reading off it. "Let's see: a concussion, multiple broken, cracked and bruised ribs at, well, all of them. Fractured tibia, dislocated wrist, and shoulder, need I go on?"

I shake my head, "No thanks doc. It's giving me nightmare already. Just exactly how did this happen?"

"Well seems our resident Convict doesn't take kindly to strangers, so I've taken the liberty of sedating her." She frowns. "Or I would have if the Commander didn't insist on here being active and awake."

"Crap. Just HOW long have I been out?"

She put down the tablet and went to check the IV bag which I just noticed now, "A few weeks. Shepard has been going around gathering resources during that time. Something 'bout wanting a full crew next time she went looking for another to add to the crew." Nodding her head in satisfaction, she looked me square in the eyes and said, "and I daresay, you are a very strange person indeed."

I raise an eyebrow in response. "Oh?"

"Yes, I assumed you would be asleep for a few more days at the very least and bedridden for another week at least. If only to allow your muscles to recover, we managed to reset and heal your bones a few days after."

"The wonders of modern medicine I guess?" Though it did nothing for the muscle pain. "Heh, well I guess I better start wearing armor whenever I go down there huh?" I give her my best smile, she gives one in return. "Seems like Sera's the only one to have immunity from Jack." When her smile changes to a smirk it worries me. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just that, well you're the first to refer to the Commander by her first name."

"Why?"

"For other's I don't know, but for me, it's because she is Commander Shepard and I will always give her the respect she has earned and deserves. And I never will breach that barrier and call her by her first name."

Wow…Just wow. For one woman to have gained that level of respect, even if it's one person, is impressive. I generally referring to people by their last name for no reason other than make sure they know it's them I'm calling for. Feels more unique. Shepard, the name itself exudes confidence, strength and the belief that you can follow them into the deepest depths of Hell and come out the other side.

Shit. Shepard, that dream, or was it another one? Oh God I hope it is only a dream.

"Dr. Chakwas."

"Yes?"

"If you could see the future, whether it is a few days, weeks, months or years ahead, would you take it?"

"At what cost?" She furrowed her brows at me with a look of disdain. "One thing I have learned in my life, Mr. Andres, is that such great boons have never come out without great cost. Of which sometimes the cost is too great."

Ok, she's earned my respect. Most would jump at the chance to see the future at any level. "The price is, you don't know when the vision will come true. You only know that it did at that moment or right after, because you will be there to see it happen, or commit the action yourself. And no matter what, you will never be able to change what you saw in the visions. Bar death."

"Then I would say no. That sort of ability is no gift, but a curse." Crossing her arms she continued. "I shudder at such a prospect. To potentially see a tragic future and knowing, that there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop it. With the state of the Galaxy as it is, I fear what could be seen in the future."

"Yeah, I guess we all got to be grateful none of us have that kind of curse."

"Indeed," She's smiling again, "now. Back to bed with you! You're staying here until I say so."

"Heh. Yes ma'am." With that I return to the blissful oblivion that is sleep.

**Several days later**

Normandy: Starboard Observation Bay

I let out a deep breath after putting down another datapad. I asked for several on weapons and armor development over the past two centuries, and I have to say: it's a bit disappointing. No, scratch that, it's severely disappointing. With discover of eezo and mass effect fields, everything went towards kinetic barriers and mass accelerator-based weaponry.

Completely abandoning many other forms of weapons, and only giving minimal focus on others: from lasers to mechanized walkers. If they had a fraction of this stuff during the First Contact war, I doubt Humanity would be so weak compared to the rest of the galaxy. I need to find a way to bring this stuff back to reality. When I 'left' my era behind, last I heard, laser weaponry was close to field testing as anti-missile batteries, and even perhaps for armored divisions. And walkers, hell I doubt there was no one working on making stuff like in the Battletech universe. Ever since Starwars, all of us engineers had dreams of that at one point or another. Lasers here are barely used except for as point defense systems.

Maybe here I can, I don't know, make this stuff real. I turn to see a few of the Normandy's standard crew talking with Garrus, who seems to be uneasy but willing to talk. I guess when you're the only ones fighting for a cause only a few believe, it tends to breed camaraderie even among the unlikely Maybe I can bring back some ideas, and breathe some life into them. For now though, I need to make some peace on this ship.

**Normandy SR2: Deck 3, XO quarters**

(Note: going to test a little something here so bear with me.)

Miranda was working on another note to add to her file on the Lazarus Project: she was still taking down records in case on any sort of problems or instability, of which so far were none other than the expected psychological ones. Though she was getting tired of having Shepard making judgments she felt were in the wrong. Taking on not one, but two total strangers onto their crew, one of the sheer testimony of the other, and a homemade gun!

She scoffed at what he had claimed when she heard it later on. A man from a world where nuclear war ravaged the planet? As if that were possible, humanity could never fall that far. But then again, they said it was impossible to bring the dead back to life. And carbon and radiological testing of the self-made weapon, a "Bastard" if she recalled correctly, did support their claim. Still, she didn't like it. A man without any sort of record was very dangerous, from being either be both untraceable and able to hide anywhere, to a sign of resources or potentially dangerous allies.

She scowled at the thought of "Mr. Andres". She had a bad feeling about him since they made eye contact. Something was there, not much would trigger a "flight-fight" response in her before she had thought up of a plan. But something in his eyes, they said something that instinct overrode thought. It was the reason she wanted him off the ship, whatever was behind that façade, it was not something she wanted on this ship.

She was shaken out of her thoughts when the door pinged; she set her terminal to stand-by as she unlocked the door, "Enter." When the doors opened, she resisted the urge to scowl, Cris was standing at the door, in a close impression of standing at attention, only her own skills managed to find the errors in his posture. She doubted any other nonmilitary, whether active or retired, would have been able to tell that he never was. But he still exuded an aura of confidence and strength; those of a natural leader.

"And what are you doing here?" Her voice so cold it could have frozen helium. She still remembered that close call on Omega, and the ridicule that followed from Jack. She had harassed her for several hours until she decide to lock herself in her quarters and recut her hair so that it looked even. Though now it was shortened very close to her head, leaving very little hair to actual stylize.

Cris just stands there for a good moment until he relaxes. "Ms. Lawson, I must ask, ever since I woke aboard this vessel, and my initial meeting with the specialists onboard, you have been completely against me. Wanting to either eject me, or eliminate me entirely. The question I have Ms. Lawson, is why?"

"Why what?" She was starting to get irritated at the man. First he humiliates her and acts as though he has done nothing? It infuriated her how callous he could be!

"Why do you so badly want me off this ship? I have done nothing against you-" She glared at him, "except for what occurred on Omega, for which I sincerely apologize." He bowed at the waist, arms to the side, adding to the apology, and Miranda could see he was being sincere. "Nonetheless, I have done nothing else to warrant such hostilities.

'What?' She couldn't believe it, he claims ignorance but is willing to apologize still? He truly was an enigma, and one of the things she hated aside from her father was an enigma; an unsolvable riddle or puzzle. She crossed her arms while keeping up her glare. Leaving out her own personal reasons answered, "You are an anomaly, an aberration. The sheer fact that you do not exist, is, in this day and age, impossible. And yet, here you stand."

"And here I stand." He agreed.

"Not to mention your outrageous claim to have been from almost 200 hundred years." Something that was outrageous and yet carbon-dating had already proved his claim. They had done extensive testing on both him and his belongings, and all of it, in terms of time period, backed-up his claim.

"So you believe me to be dangerous? And yet, you have a convicted killer, a rogue cop, cop turned vigilante, and a mad scientist, yet I am the most dangerous."

"You are an unknown quantity."

He nods. "I see." Walking towards the window in her office, he sits down in one of the two chairs, turning it towards her, Lawson, not trusting him, turns to keep him in view. "Perhaps, Ms. Lawson, we can at the very least, be allies?"

"And what exactly do you have to offer?" Smirking she continued, "Everyone on board this vessel has a place Mr. Andres, while you do not, even your 'friend' Artyom, who has exceptional marksmen and stealth skills. The Commander may have decided to keep you for now; I will remove any liabilities to this mission."

"And I understand that, as for what I have to offer." Activating his omnitool, a file appeared on her terminal before opening. Still distrusting of the man, she turned just enough to read what was on the file, only to be nearly shell shocked by what she saw. It was the blueprints to the rifle he had been working on with Jacob: a rifle that combines both mass effect technology and 21st century tech, to create a hybrid anti-material rifle.

"Are you serious?" she asked, "This kind of technology hasn't been used for over 150 years! Why would you even consider-"

"Such an archaic idea? Sometimes Ms. Lawson, newer, isn't always better. I suggest you take a look at the predicted effects of the design." And this time, it did shake her nerves. "This weapon can very well change the battlefield, it may, no it will, redefine weapons yet again." He tapped his omnitool again, sending another file. "And this will change warfare forever. The dawn of a new age of weapons and technology." This time it was a wireframe design of an armored walker, labeled, Armored Personal Unit.

He rose. "I have thousands of ideas, hundreds of concepts, and many designs in my head. One of the reasons I entered the engineering fields was for my friends and family. Many of them were in the armed forces of various nations. I created designs to ensure one thing: to make sure they always came home. Whether it be victorious or merely survive. Whether they be my own, or bringing the dreams of others to life. They would always come home to us again."

"And why would you give us such designs? You could take these to the private sector for yourself and make a fortune."

"For the same reason everyone is on this ship, I look at the big picture, and I intend to prepare for what is approaching." He sighed. "This world has become stagnant in design, invention and innovation. Everything revolves around a common idea, eezo, mass accelerators. All technology revolving around what has existed for millennia rather than create something that is purely our own. Everything has been given by the Reapers, perhaps an anomaly like me, can make all the difference in the world."

He turned and moved to leave but paused before the door, turning just enough to face Miranda he asked, "Why do you wear that mask?"

She gave him a condescending look, "What mask?"

"The one that you put on to hide that pure heart underneath," before she could say anything he continued, "I see beyond the Ice Queen and see the tortured soul beneath. You have suffered many pains and endured much. But it has only made you stronger. You may have committed questionable actions in the past, but I can see that it has all been for a purpose. What that purpose is, I do not know, but I see it what has kept you going with a drive as scorching as any star."

"I do not 'wear' a 'mask' as you say." Miranda hissed in anger, more in having been found then him. "What would you know about something like that anything?" she was starting to lose her self-control. "Just get out of here!"

He resumed his leave. He spared her a glimpse at the door and whispered, "You wear it well, hiding your true self from the others, but you are still a novice." It was only a brief moment, no quicker than a flash of lightning; Miranda saw something else behind that cool veneer. It told of endless hardship, constant betrayals, crushing loneliness and unending perseverance; before it was hidden again hidden by confidence and strength. "And I, am a master."

Miranda only regained her senses after the doors had closed, and Mr. Andres had left the room.

**Outside XO's office**

(Note: end of test. :P Let me know people what you think.)

Shit, *cough cough* it's been way to damn long since I had to something like that, god I hate playing politics. *cough cough* I stumble towards the kitchen, Gardner's there cooking, something, I don't know. "Hey Gardner, you got any coffee?"

"Yeah sure," He passed me what passed for a mug in this day and age. "Here you go."

"Thanks." What the hell was I thinking? Did I really just promise her weapons? Weapons that were only fiction back home. I mean can I really do something like that? Deliver on that promise. Even as I think about it, the designs are passing in front of me. Imagined images pass by in front of my eyes: rifles, mechanized walkers, and armor designs; taking the fiction and going through the steps to make it reality, from nothing more than a faraway dream, to being in the palm of my hand.

"Move over," What the hell?! Some old guy in yellow armor just knocked me to the side before grabbing something from the fridge and heading towards the elevator.

"Hey," Gardner moved around the prep table and pulled me to my feet. "You ok?"

"Yeah yeah I'm fine. What was up with up old scarred and grumpy?"

"Him? That was Zaeed Massani, our resident mercenary and drunk."

"Pft, more like an old guy with a grudge."

"I heard that! And for your information I was putting down entire Batarian Pirate gangs when you were still sucking on your mama's tit!" Damn the guy's voice is rough.

"Well, he's in a particularly fine mood; maybe the Commander didn't invite him on the last few jobs when I was out." Still that armor of his, the right shoulder pauldron is oversized compared to the rest of his armor, to absorb the recoil of heavier weapons I guess. Maybe I can… I pull out a datapad, something I asked for Jacob to put down more designs later if I came up with any, before taking out a stylus and began drawing armor components. Gardner noticed and asked what I was doing. "Back in school I did some stupid stuff but picked up a few tricks from it. One of the things I constantly did was jumping from high vantage points. Some were roll landings, others were just impact landings.*(A/N: I DO NOT SUGGEST OR SAY DOING SOMETHING LIKE THIS IS OK! THIS IS SOMETHING I CAME UP WITH BUT NEVER DID! DO NOT DO IT! I DO NOT KNOW WHAT CAN HAPPEN OR CONDONE SUCH ACTIONS! THIS IS PURELY FOR STORY, NOT REAL! DO NOT DO IT!) It was brutal on the body but damn if it wasn't fun." Not to mention scaring people with the loud boom I made on some of my landings. I grin at the memories; some people thought a truck had crashed outside or something when I landed. "I'm hoping to make it so I can do it on the battlefield, with the armor amplifying the effects of the landing tremor while removing or decreasing the damage done to me by the landings."

"Ok, I get the legs, but why the arm and only the right arm?"

"It's for balance. When you land, it's best to land on as many points as possible to reduce damage. And so you don't tip over on landing. With this armor, I'm hoping to create an impact wave with it." He nods in understanding. "Well I'm going to take this elsewhere, work on it bit by bit. Now I'm going to try and figure out just what happened to me last week." I move to leave but he calls me back.

"Oh, speaking of, you might want to speak with Joker later." When I turn, he has the biggest grin on his face that says, 'I know something that you don't.'

"The pilot? Why?"

"You'll see." He says with a shit eating grin before he goes back to cooking, I can still hear him snorting trying to suppress his laughter. Just what the hell could be so funny?

**Normandy: Deck 2 corridor**

"Hey Cris!" I turn to find Ian walking toward me. Seems he just got done talking to Shepard, who was headed toward the Gunnery Bay for some reason. Turning back to Ian I ask him,

"What's going on?"

"Get your gear ready, we're heading to Omega."

"He called?"

"Yeah, but Shepard has something else to do while we're there so it's just the two of us. Garrus can't come in case someone recognizes his armor scheme." He deactivates his omnitool. "You ok mate? You look like you had a chat with death."

"It's nothing, so just us two?

"Yeah, we got a day or two, but you should take what you can."

"Right, what were you talking to Sera about?"

He quirks an eyebrow at me at my reference but ignores it, "Talking to her about heading to Omega. She also wanted to know more about what I'd been doing for the past two years since she died."

"Ah, wait, died?"

"Yeah, somehow Cerberus brought her back from the dead. Don't ask me how, that's above my pay grade."

"Damn."

He walks off towards the elevator, "We hit Omega in a few days or so. Get all your gear ready by then." Hitting the elevator call button, the door open soon after and, walks right into Lia. I swear, sometimes I feel sorry for the girl.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Ian barely responds with a nod before heading into the elevator himself and closes the doors. She looks at me, her body language screaming how nervous she is, "He doesn't like me very much does he?"

Shaking my head I answer, "No, I don't think that's it at all. He's got a lot on his mind I think from what I could read. Just what it is, I don't know."

"Oh, I just hope I can make some friends here." Oh, yeah, Cerberus. Ian and Garrus told me about these guys. Xenophobes or racial superiority believers.

"I think you'll be alright. Most of these people seem more loyal to the Commander then the organization."

"Thanks." She visibly relaxes. "What were you two talking about anyway?"

"We're heading to Omega to pick up some materials. It's for a new rifle I designed."

"Mind if I take a look? One of the true things about Quarians is the fact that all of us are very good with most tech. We need to be to survive in the Migrant Fleet."

"Sure, but in exchange you tell me more about the Migrant Fleet, deal?"

She shrugs, "Sure." I nod back to her and pull up the design.

"This, this, just what is thing?" Whoa, and I thought Jacob had a freaky reaction. "I recognize the Mass Effect Field generators, but what are these here? But a spring? Pins? Just what are you building here?"

"It's a hybrid platform: combining modern day era Mass Effect weapons tech along with 21st century small arms tech."

"Hybrid?..."

"Yeah, hopefully it's something that will change weapons tech. Just because something new has come out, doesn't mean it's better. Chemical propellant weapons can be silenced, unlike Mass Effect weapons because you can reduce noise with a silencer, cuts down on noise leaving barrel by reducing the speed the gas leaves the weapon. Mass Effect weapons create sounds by sonic boom, breaking the sound barrier as they leave the barrel, so they can't be silenced, hopefully this will have the best of both worlds." She seems a bit too interested… "Why are you so curious?"

"Oh," wow she gets flustered easily. Wonder if all Quarians are? "Well, I thought you knew, when you realized I was on my pilgrimage."

Uh, thankfully whatever info hit me then came back, "So you're hoping to use it for your pilgrimage gift?"

"Yes, a new idea like this could give us a major advantage against the Geth. And I also was wondering if you would allow me to come with you?"

"Uh…" Is she serious? Looking at her again, yeah, she's serious. "You sure about that?"

"Please! I want to do something to earn my keep here!" She's started begging and almost on her hands and knees!

"Whoa shit! Calm down." Shaking my head I answer, "Can you even defend yourself? Do you know how to fight? To shoot, to fight hand to hand?"

"Well, before anyone goes out on pilgrimage, we undergo some basic training and firearms lessons."

"Come on, follow me to the hangar. Let's see just how good you are."

**Omega: Docks**

Neon lights rusted walls and people eeking out a living however they can. I've only been here once, but I swear once was enough. Thank god this time I don't have to smell it at least, thanks to the helmet. Right now Ian and I were headed to the warehouse district where his quote unquote 'friend' was waiting for us with my request. And Ian, well; "Don't you think you're overdoing it with that armor?" He was wearing the same armor as last time, but he's carrying enough munitions for a long firefight. I don't recognize half the weapons he's carrying.

"No," His voice is dead serious. "Last time I got involved in something on Omega, I ended up in a firefight for over several hours. It took me and Garrus picking off what must have been a battalion of mercs for hours. Until they got so paranoid and started blaming then shooting each other."

"How did you get involved in something like that?"

"Don't ask, all you need to know is it happened before the Saren incident." The way he says it, sounds like it got really personal for him. Whatever it was, he's still mad about it. Hell, I go as far to say he has a vendetta, or at least a grudge.

"So, are we just waiting here?" Lia came with also. Her skills with weapons are decent, hand to hand is ok. Against civies she would probably be ok, but not against anyone trained in the military. Or against anyone who have formalized training. Her fighting skills really need to sharpen up before I'd agree to her coming on any major assignments. If Shepard tries, I'm fighting it. Hopefully this is just a snatch and run and nothing happens.

"I think so; I'm relying on Ian here for everything. He's doing me a favor helping get some materials." I can see her fingering her M-6 Carnifex hand cannon. She's also carrying an M-22 Eviscerator shotgun. How the hell a young woman like her can handle a weapon like that is beyond me. "Calm down a bit will you? You're making me nervous; constantly touching your weapon like that."

She stopped fingering the gun and started twiddling her fingers together instead. "Sorry, but I can't help but feel nervous. It feels like," she mutters the last part so I can't hear it.

"Come again?"

She comes closer to me basically hugging me, "-like I'm naked and everyone's staring at me." Times like remind me, as smart as she is, she's still just a young woman. Hell she's barely out of her teens. Not to mention her suit tends to, accentuate her figure, not to sound like a perv.

"I'm sure it's nothing." I tell her. But still, I look around to see if anyone _is _staring at us, or more specifically her. Couple of mercenaries from different groups getting off different ships, a Volus directing a shipping pallet, a random Vorcha gang just hanging round a corner, strange, their species was the only one that never caused a _Surge_. I keep looking around and there's a group of _humans_, _**leering **_at her, and from the looks in their eyes, was obvious what they wanted. The leader of the group, maybe a half dozen in total, he had a grizzled beard, ragged clothes, and a cocky grin on his face. The guy looks familiar to me for some reason. We made eye contact, well I did, and all he saw was the eyeholes. His grin gets even wider before he nods at me, and then gestures to Lia with a disgusting grin.

Snarling beneath my helmet, I draw a short knife mounted to my arm before pointing the blade at him. His grin falters for a moment before it comes back, but the message is clear, 'Try anything, and I **will** gut you.' He only shakes his head and looks another way, but I can't help but feel it's not the last time I'll be seeing him.

"Uh, Cris, what are you doing?" I look away from the creep to find myself holding Lia close to my body. I hadn't realized what I done.

"Uh," Crap, "Sorry 'bout that, just some guy over there was giving you a weird look, didn't even realize…" I trail off. I'm never usually like this: I mean I'm protective of those I care about yes bu- Whoa. Uh, when did this happen?

"Oh, thanks," She wiggles a bit, "not to say this isn't nice but, uh, can you let me go?"

I let her go, "Uh, right, sorry."

"It's fine." She turns away, but stays close. I turn, but keep her just in the corner of my eye. I gaze at the blade in my hand, held in a reverse-style grip: point facing opposite my thumb. What's been going on with me recently? I thought the changes were done with the _Surges. _I haven't had any since the first meeting with Ian's contact. I mean, I've never been like this when I saw one of my friends been leered at like Lia was. I mean, to confront someone is one thing, but what I just did, with the knife, it's not me. Thinking back, my skills with weapons, they've evolved. I never was this accurate with a rifle, not at almost several hundred feet, hitting dead on constantly. Something is not right. Lately too I've been looking more and more at my left arm. It's almost like something is there, it's like an itch. I got to figure this out, before anything else changes.

For now though, it's finally time to get our hands on what I need to finish my project. I just hope nothing happens.

A/N: Yeah, sorry for slow update and lack of action. All Hell breaks loose in the next few chapters though, and a few secrets come out from the shadows.


	12. Firefights, New Enemies and New Toys

New Arrivals 11

Request from the author at bottom of chapter.

Unbetaed

Omega: Warehouse District

"Where the hell is your friend Ian?" This is getting ridiculous; it's been 2 hours since Ian said we would meet with the guy here. It doesn't help this is starting to feel like a damn set-up. "I'm start not like him more and more." I'm looking around the area, crates, abandoned structures, walkways, I swear, what is up with this architecture design? I can't get my head around it. Then again, I'm more of a mechie then an architect.

"I'm not sure myself." He's trying to communicate with the guy via his omni-tool. "He should have been here by now."

"Maybe he forgot?" Lia supplied. Ah, to be so naïve.

I shake my head, "Not likely. People like him don't stay alive long if they forget their meetings." I twist my buy'ce, trying to make it a more comforting fit. As much as I might despise this thing, something told me I'd need it. In the corner of my eye, I saw Ian twitch, a half-second, but it was there. "Something wrong Ian?" Twitches, sign of old injuries, deprivation, being eager or signs of losing control.

Shaking his head, even as he fiddles with his omni-tool responds. "I-It's nothing." Hmm.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Something's going on with Ian. I feel like he's hiding something, but. I don't know him well enough to say that.

"Alright, though this is strange."

"What is?" Lia's started touching her Carnifex again I notice. Though this time I can't blame her, I've had my hand on my Shuriken too.

"All these mercs." Looking around I see them scattered throughout the district. "There's so many of them and a lot of different outfits too. Blue Suns, Eclispe, a few Blood Pack Krogan, and there's a several what look to be freelancer agents. Mercs who are not part of any real organization. * Cough cough* Damn cough. It's back again.

"Let's not worry about them." Ian deactivated his tool, and point. "Look, there he is now." I look to where he's pointing and see a Salarian, Praven walking towards us. But he as he gets closer he looks, off. The moment he gets to us I see why. He looks like he hasn't had enough sleep or food for the last week. He looks unsteady, is he going to-Whoa!

The moment he started to fall over, Ian and I rush to catch him before he fell. We do, if barely. Even closer I can see bruising, cuts, he's been through hell. Before I can say anything Ian grabs him by shoulder, gently, "Praven, who did this to you?"

He chuckles, but it's that of someone who has been beaten; interrogated. "Sorry Ian, looks like they final caught me." Before either of us can say anything, his head explodes in a fountain of blood.

"SNIPER!" Looking around, I can see the mercenaries pulling out their weapons, "Take cover!"

Ian dives behind a barricade as I run back to grab Lia. Damn girl's just standing there! "Lia!" She barely notices, but I can her head turn. "MOVE!" I don't stop, I swing my arm out to snatch her by the chest, and bring her with me around a wall. Right across from Ian's barricade. "What the hell are you doing!?" She almost got killed, she-She's freaking in borderline shock. "Damn it! Ian, we-Is that an M-29 Incisor!"

Instead of answering, he lets off a burst. The three shots firing in such quick succession it sounds like a single round. I can barely it though over everything else going on around us. "Lia, wake up!" Finally she reacts and starts turning her head wildly.

"Wha-What's going on?" Oh, this is so not good. I reach around her, pulling out her shotgun and by luck finding the release and extension mechanism at the same time. Turning off the safety, I force the shotgun into her hands, bringing her attention to me. "Cris? What's happening?"

"We've been found out. Ian's friend is dead. Everything is going to hell. Stay down, don't get shot and stay alive." I make sure she gets a firm grip on her M-22, before I turn around, pulling out my own M-96 Mattock. Glancing back at her I ask, "Stay with me, alright? I see her nod. Popping over the barricade I can see mass accelerator shots flying everywhere. It's a damn free for all. "Ah crap." Two guys, Blue Suns, by the paint job on their armor. I bring up the sights, tagging the first of the two guys, a human. No emotions, its either him, or me. I pull the trigger, once, twice, three times. The first two shatter his shields, the third penetrates his cranium. The air behind his head bursts in a red mist. I adjust and take down his buddy, a Turian, this time, five shots. Ok, this time I'm in control, but I don't feel anything. No, just another two more targets taken down, why… forget it, I'll figure it out later. Shit, this is bad, there's-"FUCK!" Sniper round just nicked me! Freaking Bastard!

"Yo Ian!" He clicks his comm. in response, being too busy sniping whoever got too close. "We need to displace! Too damn open here; there's not enough cover!"

I see he nod and he yells back. "I know! There's a building over there to my right. I'll cover you until you get there!" He lets off another burst, before taking cover and I see the air wrap right where his head was seconds before from a passing bullet. "On your mark!"

"Understood." I let off another few rounds towards the firestorm, towards another barricade, before I turn to Lia. "Lia," She's clutching the shotgun with a white-knuckle grip, as though it were a lifeline. I call her again before she manages to face me. "We're going to make a run for that building," I tell her as I point to said building. "Ian's going to cover us. I need to stay behind me, and just run. Run as fast as you can. Understood?"

"What! Are you crazy? There's no way we can get through all that!" That being all the bullets flying through the air. Her grip on her shotgun slackens, her head facing downward. "I shouldn't have come here. I should've stayed on the Citadel. I-"

Taking hold of here shoulder, making here look back to me, I say, "And where would you be now then? Waiting in desperation for another opportunity to show up for a job? A chance to get a pilgrimage gift so you can return to the Flotilla? While eating nutrient paste in a Turian shelter?" Even through the faceplate I can tell she's surprised, quite frankly so am I, but can't dwell on that now. "Listen, trust me. I won't let anything happen to you, alright? I promise Lia'ika." I smile, even though I know she can't see it through the helmet. But I can see her nod, and looks more in control of herself than before. "Get ready to run." I re-secure my Mattock to my back and unlatch a canister along with my M-4 Shuriken Machine pistol from my belt. My finger on the activation stud on the top of the canister, which started to glow bright red. "Hey Ian, get ready. Me and Lia are about to move." He clicks his comm. again in response and I can hear him rack his Incisor rifle, loading another thermal clip. "Ready?" I see Lia nod, and a third click from the comm. "You be right behind us!"

Ian nodded, "As soon as we're in business!" I pull back my arm. "Fire in the hole!" And throw. The canister's arc outline by the red light on top, as it flies through the air, the safety lever ejects, and the blades eject from the canister from four notches around the canister. It lands in a cluster of enemies. As I get down, I see one of them attempt to pick it up to toss it back, but he screams.

"What the hell is this thing!" Just before the grenade goes off and more screams start sounding out.

I grab Lia and start running, spraying off bursts as we run. I don't know if I hit anything. All I care about is getting inside that building. We crash into the building, I am seriously grateful no one locked that damn door. "We're clear!" Taking a glance towards Lia, who's trying to get up. Moving towards the window closest to Ian and facing the opposition I let out several burst from my M-4. "Ian? You-"

"Gah!" What the hell?! I stop firing and crouch down below the window.

"Ian!" Shit if he's hit… "You ok!"

I can hear him hiss before he answers. "Yeah I'm fine. Lucky bastard shot my rifle. It's done."

"You still armed?" A pause on the comm. I facepalm myself. "You can still shoot?"

"I said he got my gun, not my hands." I can hear the clacking and whirs of a weapon expanding. "Just cover my arse until I get inside. Alright mate?"

"Got it. Just get ready to move. On your go."

"Moving…Now!" Getting out of cover, I left off continuous bursts off from the M-4 until the clip empties, and as I get back down, I hear Ian sliding into the building.

"You ok?"

He gets up and takes position under the window next to me. "Yeah, I'll be fine. What the hell was that thing you threw anyway? Never heard a man scream like that _before_ a grenade went off."

Grinning as I answer him, "My own design, still haven't thought up of a name for it, but suffice it to say, you're better off running your ass off then trying to toss one of those back at someone." My grin doesn't go away, if anything it gets bigger.

He gives me a look before saying, "You're crazy, and you know that right?"

I shrug. "Um guys," we both turn to see Lia, taking cover behind a fridge as bullets slam into the machine. "You want to keep talking or make sure we get out of here?"

"Right, I-Anyone else hear that?" There's some sort of beeping, I look around to try and find the source, and its coming from-the door? Oh shit. "Mo-" The door lock is destroyed by a small explosion before it opens and I see a canister roll into the room and- "Agh!" It's a fucking flash-bang!

"Move in! Take them down!"

Damn it I can't see! Who the hell are these guys! These guys are not normal mercs! I try to fight them but before I can do anything someone's nailed me down! "Get off of me!"

"Tangos down sir." I can barely turn my head to get a glimpse of these guys. A five man squad. Human, and possibly Asari, if the two women of the group are any indication. Uniform armor, matte black with full polarized helms, and weapons, barring the odd sniper and shotgun, and all of them have some sort of symbol on their shoulder; a triangle with an eye inside it? "Understood sir." There's one guy obviously in charge; his armor is more elaborate, more bolt-on attachments then the others; what looks like ammo pack on his left thigh and arm, some sort of rod mounted to his helmet along with something on his knuckle area, along with the streak of silver paint going down his left arm. "Squad, move out, our objective is to secure those goods."

"What about these people?" It's one of the women on the squad, she has her boot on my back, she even handcuffed me! What the hell! "Sir?" I start trying to move, but I stop when I feel her press the barrel of something down on my head. "Quit moving or I'll give you a new hole to breathe out of." Bitch. "Eyes down."

"They are of no concern. Regal just wants the packages. It's been a while since we've had an opportunity like this. Not on Omega at least. Not this easy." What the hell are they talking about? Who are these guys. Clicking my comm. I get Ian's attention, and really glad the both of us are wearing helmets right now.

Muting my speakers I link to Ian's. "Oi, Ian, who the hell are these guys?"

"No clue. These guys are not your standard mercenaries. They're too well trained." He's got two guys with their weapons trained on him. "I don't recognize their emblems either." But obviously they recognize you it looks like.

"So, a whole new group then eh?" I can't reach for any of my weapons on account of the bitch standing over me. ("Hey, I said eyes down!") Who sounds damn familiar, and neither can Ian. "So…any ideas?" Despite how calm it is inside here, outside, the gunfire hasn't stopped. If anything its gotten louder. Just what the hell is going on out there?

"Unless you got another fancy grenade or something in your back pocket, no." He deadpanned.

"Uh, guys. I'm still here."

"LIA!" Ow! ("Quiet!") "How the hell are you still free?"

"They never saw me. The moment I saw the come in, I activated my cloak. What should I do?"

"Ian?" Personally I'd rather she get the hell out of here and get some reinforcements or something but. "Ian?"

"Lia, can you project a false beacon from a drone?" What is he planning?

"Yeah, I think so why?" Ian, you better not get us killed here.

"Have drones start broadcasting the IFFs of Blood Pack, Blue Suns and Eclispe from inside the building. Someone might just start shooting at the building and give us a distraction."

"Are you crazy!" What is he thinking? "You do that and you'll have every merc from here to the docks firing on us!"

"That's the plan. Lia, do it." This is so not going to turn out well.

"Wait hold on."

"What now?" Ian hissed at me.

"The big boss is looking at us." And he was. And he was looking constantly toward his left arm, and then towards mine. Why is looking at me?

"Another one." He whispered. Another what? "Another one of us has arrived. Get him on his feet."

"Hey, watch it!" ("Shut up. The captain wants to speak with you.") "Someone mind taking these cuffs off me?"

Their boss nodded. "Take them off."

"Sir?" He doesn't even respond, just gives a hard glare. The agent, who put them on me, quivers before taking the cuffs off me and backing away.

"So, whats'-Urk!" The guy's holding me by the throat. "Wha-"

"Who are you? What are you supposed to be?" I, can't breathe! I start slamming my fists on his arm. The guy doesn't even flinch but he lets up the pressure but he still has me in his grip. "Now, I'll ask again: who are you? Why did they send another?"

This guy's crazy! "Others? Sent? What the blazes are you talking about?" Before I can do anything else, his faceplate depolarizes, cutting off the reflective surface and letting me see the face beneath. The man, I don't recognize him, but I know that smirk. It's when someone realizes they have the advantage. And those eyes, they're an unnatural gold color. Who is this guy? He glares at my left arm again. What is with this guy and my arm? Does he have a weird obsession or something?

"Tch. You don't even realize. And you got such a nice one too. Not better than mine of course." Gold-Eyes looks at me again before he throws me. "I suggest you start learning kid. You know how to make masks that's good. But you better learn how to use it kid, before it starts to go down. "

"Just what are you-" Shit. He's aiming at my head. "Hope the next guy learns faster than you did." I can see his finger pull back-

"Lia now!" Out of nowhere a dozen or so drones pop into existence.

"What the hell is going on here!" Soon everyone one of the new mercs starts firing at the drones, taking several rounds before popping. Lia must have gone through with it, but that means.

"Ah!" "I'm hit!" Bullets just flying towards the building. The mercs are dropping from the sheer volume of fire. Gold-Eyes just snarls before grabs his rifle and starts firing outside. "Take them down!" Whatever this guy was to his squad, it made them damn loyal, or least obedient. The moment they heard him, the rest moved up and started opening fire. "Damn it, cover me!" "Sir!"

I need to move, get out of here. Get to the others and-"Incoming!" Something compels me to turn and I see, oh crap, missiles.

.A/N: Want to know if people think I should continue or rewrite the story a bit. Use my new experience to revamp the earlier chapters. Let me know in reviews and tell me what you think of this chapter also please. :D Also, on my account on deviant art, as new weapons and other tech and OCs begin to make their appearances, I will post their bios, history and whatnot on my deviant art page as Journal Entries. Link to my deviant art account:


	13. Announcment

th Hello, those of you who read this story. Looking back at the earlier chapters, *shudder* I have decide to do a rewrite to it reads like it was written by someone who passed 9th grade English class.

Not to mention I was having a hard time continuing with the plot from here on out.

So, expect to see part of the rewrite soon or after a month.

Exam week time: Here we go (O)-(o)


End file.
